RubyEye
by Matthew R. Barnes
Summary: A Slayers tale of an...unusual sort, perhaps, in that it's a story taking place outside the canon 'Slayers' group. Disclaimer and Introduction within. Thanks for all the encouragement! Chapters 11-12 up!
1. Chapter One

_**Ye Olde Disclaimere Ande Introductione**_

_First off, let's not forget the important stuff. You know, the stuff to cover my own backside. None of this is mine. The characters of Aric, Emilio, Ellisia, Lhynn, Kaia, Galamoth, Merlya and a handfull of miscellaneous extras are my own creations, but as they themselves exist in the Slayers world I cannot truly even claim credit for them. Such is the life of a fic'er who likes to tell his stories from an original perspective._

_With that done, on to the Introductione._

_Well, here it is. My third attempt at submitting something to . Though this notion is actually older than both of my other two together. First and foremost, I should probably warn that this…is not a Slayers fic in the sense that many would consider. It isn't a romantic interlude between a popular couple (or even an unlikely couple) from the Slayers canon cast. Nor is it a full-fledged story _centered_ around a canon romantic involvement. Nor for that matter, a full-fledged story _not_ centered around a canon romantic involvement. There's a particular reason this story is called only "Ruby-Eye" and not "Slayers Ruby-Eye" or suchlike._

_Slayers is the story of Lina Inverse. Bandit-basher. Treasure-taker. Dragon-spooker and the Enemy of All who Live. Other people generally tend to get involved, because that's what happens when heroes and anti-heroes are concerned._

_But this is not her story._

_This isn't even the story of her children or children's children, or any of those other next-generation ideas._

_This is the story of an entirely different group of adventurous misfits, with their own set of trials and legends to make. While they may periodically intersect with the thread that is Lina Inverse's career-after all, as tangled as said thread is, such a thing is almost inevitable-they are quite firmly set upon their _own_ thread._

_This is the story of a young sorcerer with red eyes, a half-breed out to prove herself, and a devil's bargain._

_It doesn't have the most noble or exciting or even terribly original of beginnings…but then, legends have to start somewhere, don't they?_

_I only hope you good people will enjoy reading this yarn as much as I enjoy spinning it._

_Oh, yes, of course…I almost forgot. And for all you people who have some problem with my handling of canon matters, violations of rules and/or creative license? As always, bite me. n.n This is fanfiction, and I am in no way saying it conforms 100 (or even 50) with the generally accepted rules and whatnot. Enjoy it, or offer constructive criticism, or don't read and go find something you _do_ want to. Nobody's twisting your arm to read this stuff._

_And to those people willing to take things with a grain of salt and enjoy things, or simply tell me how I can make this the best work I can possibly offer? I thank you for your time and advice. The tale begins on a fairly unremarkable road in the wilderness, a simple passage route from one town to the next, not particularly special in any sense of the word…_

"C'mon now, we ain't got all day, boyo."

The voice belong to a rather roughshod figure, the sort that seemed to carry a faint miasma about their person vaguely reminiscent of raw sewage. Scarred and dirt-caked visage, ratty clothing, and a pair of rather sharp-looking daggers-each held point-down in one hand-identify this figure as the truly stereotypical "thief" figure, an image he was at the moment delighting in taking full advantage of. His companion, another tried-and-true stereotype of muscular man-mountain, large of girth and heavy of battleaxe, stood just behind the shorter, thinner man with a kind of glaze in his eyes that implied no conscious thought save waiting for the command: "Tiny, kill." or words to that effect.

Needless to say, the person to whom they were speaking was not amused. Okay, that's putting it nicely. He had been walking all day. His already dust-caked cloak was torn from a bramble he had inadvertently snagged it in earlier today. The resulting fall, when he had tripped as the snag came un-snagged had caused his money-pouch to drop, effectively spilling its contents and forcing him to spend a good ten minutes picking up the contents from the dirt (he'd probably left a good quarter of his cash buried in the sand somewhere that he'd been unable to find) and now whenever he finally got to an inn he'd have to sift all that dirt out. On top of all that, now these guys wanted to _steal_ the rest? He wouldn't have reacted terribly well to that even on a good day and this day thus far was quite distant from anything "good" already.

"Anytime you're ready, sonny," the thin, scar-faced man went on, walking one dagger impatiently over the backs of his knuckles, "Come on, I know you don't wanna know what it feels like to swallow supper with a nice little slit in yer neck, now do ya?"

Aric Winterbourne lifted one hand, sheathed in a tattered and patched brown leather glove that had seen many better days, and raked his fingers through his unruly head of short, deep blue hair, narrowing his strikingly crimson-irised eyes. Under normal conditions, he would have let this pass with a grain of salt. A Dill Brand at most. However, these were _not_ "normal conditions".

Lifting his two gloved hands in front of him, palms down and fingers half-curled into claw-like gestures, he began to murmur quietly, his voice slowly rising in inflection and a faint echo building behind his tone.

"_You who goes through both Air and Earth,_

_Gentle flow, floating Water_

_Gather to my hands and be my power!"_

During the course of the incantation, lightning-like tendrils of blue-colored Magical energy had snaked out from his fingertips, forming a complex vein-like pattern between his fingers and the ground that flickered and wavered like strands of spider-silk catching the light. Upon speaking the last word, he raised his blood-red gaze to the two before him and cried out with all the frustration that had built up thus far today, "_Demona Crystal!"_ The Mana dancing in the air about his hands exploded-in the ethereal sense that only a fellow magic-user could feel-toward the two in front of him, the blue strands of light flaring up before vanishing in a white flash of light. When the light cleared, a four-foot-wide chunk of ground between Aric and his assailants had been rent asunder by the horizontal column of ice that he had created, and the two would-be bandits were both encased in a titantic chunk of transparent ice...ice so solid that it would take weeks to melt, unless some benevolent fire-wielder happened to come along and free them.

Dusting off his hands, he "hmphed" a bit as he walked past, the fringes of his cloak falling to enshroud him from the neck down again and his gaze dropping back to the road before him. He still had a lot of walking to do...

- - -

**Chapter One**

Orsoil...was a quiet hovel of a town. A farming-community for the most part, though it did have a small magic-shop. Typical place to pick up such little novelties as four-sided triangle diagrams for spell-charting and maps of the inside of a Dragon's stomach. You know. Vital tools to any traveling sorcerer's success.

However, this strays far from the point of our story, for Aric Winterbourne is not the sort to dally in magical novelty-shops. More specifically, he was reclining this evening in the bed of the inn he had conveniently stumbled upon, after sifting the sand out of his sadly depleted bag of coinage. He sighed quietly, his hands folded behind his head-now un-gloved with the fingers interwoven through the unruly azure hair at the back of his head-on the pillow and his legs stretched out. Wriggling the toes of his now unencumbered feet, he cast a glance toward the doorway next to which his boots rested, frowning. His cloak was, at the moment, being mended at the village tailor's, and he would probably have to buy new gloves. He wondered idly if maybe he should go back and thaw those two so-called bandits he'd left on the road with a well-placed and overcharged fireball, take their ill-gotten gains off their hands for them, but at the moment he didn't feel like trudging through the woods and fields again just to find a pair of hoodlums who might have already been rescued by some unfortunate sap.

Besides, he still had a good bit of money remaining...more than he had expected, in fact. He'd been half afraid that most of the weight in his money-pouch had consisted of the dirt scooped up with the money, but he had quite thankfully been proven mistaken. Time to kick back, relax, and get some well-earned shut-eye.

...or not.

"It's been a long day," Aric said quietly without opening aneye, "And if you take one step closer, _your_ day is gonna get a whole lot shorter."

The presence in the room halted where it was, a good several paces from the bed. "Is that so?" The voice was almost condescending.

"I dunno what your kind wants with me, Mazoku," Aric went on, his tone suggestive of nothing more than discussing the weather, quirking one brow as azure as his hair, an eyelid twitching just on the verge of cracking. "But you should know I can pin you to the wall with an Elmekia Lance right now before you could blink."

"It's always so exasperating dealing with human sorcerers," the Demon-Race creature standing halfway across the room went on, his own voice equally pleasant, "Always that sense of superiority."

"You've got about until the time I finish this senten-"

The Mazoku in question took his cue. "I have a proposition to make."

"Not quite good enough..." One hand moved from where it rested behind his head, his palm pointed in the direction of the speaker.

"Please, please, let us not be hasty!" Cracking one eyelid, Aric caught the silhouette from the corner of his eye raising its hands with palm toward him in an "I surrender" gesture. "Hold a moment, my boy!"

Aric held a moment.

"You've not even heard what I plan to offer..."

"Not interested."

"A ridiculous sum of money?"

"Not int-money?"

He couldn't see the expression on the silhouette's face, but he could have sworn he could feel the sly smile spreading. "...still not interested."

"Oh? Hmm...how about money and power?"

The other eye opened. "Explain..."

"Ah, it seems I have your attention at last."

"I can still hurl that Elmekia Lance anytime, you know." Aric's fingers twitched ever so slightly, superficial tendrils of invisible power writhing in the air at his fingertips.

"Very well, very well. I want you to find someone."

"Find someone...? Doesn't seem so bad..."

"Now, what's your price? A thousand? Ten thousand?"

Aric felt a small, amused smirk creep its way onto his face. "Keep adding zeroes..."

"Very well. One hundred thousand in gold, and the magic artifact in question-which, coincidentally, you can find in the very labyrinth to which I will be guiding you."

Aric narrowed his eyes, turning his head toward the shadow on the other side of the room. "All right. Consider it done. Do I get to know who's hiring me?"

"Galamoth..." was the only answer, as the silhouette faded into the deeper shadows behind it.

"H-Hey wait! Wait a second!" Aric threw himself to a seated pose and tugged on those invisible strands of power, unleashing a small Bram Blazer that hammered harmlessly into the wall where the Mazoku had been. Too late...he was gone.

"...didn't even tell me where the hell I'm supposed to be going..."Aric muttered, then sighed and eased himself down to the bed again.

Aric tugged a bit at the base of one of his new gloves, pulling the fingers more snugly into place, as he waited with as much patience as possible for the tailor to retrieve his cloak from the back. The man had promised him that the repair job should be so flawless he wouldn't be able to tell it was damaged in the first place. For the other's sake, Aric hoped it held true to the tailor's word.

His head was still swirling with the vague promises of power and wealth that had been offered to him. Of course, Mazoku were demons from the darkest corners of metaphysical space-their word was worth about as much as a wooden penny-but they had been known to exchange such glamorous prizes for tasks on occasion, and finding someone sounded innocent enough. He had just taken to whistling quietly and lightly tapping the toe of one boot on the hardwood floor, when the quiet sound of a throat being cleared caught him off-guard. "Wh-Wha-!" He coughed quietly into a gloved fist, clearing his throat, as he regained his composure and turned back to the counter.

"Ehrm...thanks," he mumbled, lifting the newly-mended white cloak up for inspection. Nodding a bit in approval and flourishing it around behind him to drape it about his shoulders. Fastening the front of the collar, he adjusted the fringes of it around himself. That should be everything. Maybe next he'd stop by the Magic-sho-ah, who was he kidding?

He had enough time to step out of the shop-having paid in advance the day before for the mending-and turn a corner on the cobblestone roadway, when he heard it. That same cool, smooth voice from the previous evening.

"Well, well, well, you look like you're all dressed up with nowhere to go, my friend..."

"You..." Aric murmured, steadfastly refusing to glance in that direction. "You never told me where I'm supposed to go."

"Oh yes, I _did_ forget that little detail, didn't I?" The amusement in Galamoth's voice was unmistakable, almost driving Aric into Elmekia-lancing him on the spot.

"Yes," he said, forcing some semblance of pleasantness into his own voice. "Yes, you did."

"So sorry about that, old boy, it won't happen again." Aric turned to fix Galamoth with a glare, but once again all that was visible was a black outline."Who is it you're wanting me to find, and why?"

"Now, now, that's hardly any of your business, now is it? Yours is not to wonder why…yours is but to do and become filthy stinking rich and insanely powerful. In one fell swoop."

That, Aric couldn't very well argue with. "So where to, then, Galamoth?"

"Close your eyes, my boy," was the simple answer. Aric narrowed them instead, at first, but finally did as he was told.

"Now...open them."

Again, Aric opened his blood-red eyes. "Wh-!" was the most intelligent remark he could make on his surroundings.

"Come now, it isn't so bad. A little dank and musty on the inside, maybe, but..."

The subject in question was what looked to be the remnants of a dilapidated temple of sorts. Judging from the icons and other such decorations carved into the surface of the oddly sky-bluish, marble-like surface of the entrance-all of which resembled, as closely as Aric could make out, winged lizards or snakes with unrealistic proportions or features-the designer had been gifted with an unhealthy imagination, or a fascination with dragons. Surrounding the structure on all sides, walling off the sizeable clearing in which it lay, was an almost solid wall of maddeningly thick forest.

"Okay...tell me again exactly why it is you can't go in here, yourself?" Aric turned to face the Mazoku in question, but Galamoth was nowhere in sight. "Dammit..."

That left precious few options. There was no way he was going to forge his way through all that forest. He wouldn't even know which way to go...! Besides, if he could find whoever that Galamoth character had been looking for-the problem with that being, he had no idea _who_ he was looking for.

Again, he wasn't left with much alternative. With an exasperated sigh, he lifted his hands to straighten the clasp of his cloak, wearily shook his head, and started walking into that dank maw.

The instant he set foot across the threshold, he realized-with a sharp intake of breath that was the only thing stifling a vile curse-just exactly _why_ that thrice-cursed Mazoku hadn't been willing to come in here. This place...something was wrong. He couldn't _feel_ that intangible power surrounding the fibers of his very being any longer, that raw Mana in the air. Somehow this place, either by artificial means or fluke of nature, was utterly void of Magic, cut off from the Astral plane from which Magic was spawned.

Not only did that render most if not all of his own Magic utterly useless, but Mazoku were utterly unable to function in any location without a link to the Astral Plane. Only relatively powerful Mazoku were even able to manifest themselves willingly in the Material realm, and even then they resided primarily in the Astral Plane. Mazoku were roughly the Astral equivalent of...demons, perhaps would be the closest word, if not almost exact. They thrived on the suffering, hatred, and other negative emotions of other creatures, particularly humans...and they were creatures so utterly dependent on their own egos that should one become belittled, it could even so far as physically damage the Mazoku in question.

So...that explained a few things. But...who the hell would be dumb enough to come in here, anyway. What kind of Magic Artifact could be-wait, stupid question. How better to guard a Magic artifact from mages than to booby-trap a lair where magic didn't work? It made sense, in a typically devious fashion... Of course, that didn't mean that he had to like it.

About an hour, a dozen narrowly-escaped pitfalls and contracting walls and spiked balls, and a frustration-induced migraine later, Aric finally allowed his crimson eyes to narrow in satisfaction. Somewhere in the near distance-any oxymoron not withstanding-too far in the shadows ahead for him to really make out (damn the dim torchlight) was a figure. If it wasn't the person Galamoth wanted? Too damn bad, Aric was dragging whoever it was back out of here, and to hell with all magical treasure left in here. It wasn't bloody worth this much trouble!

The room both he and the other "intruder" stood in was a great, high-ceilinged hallway, perhaps once a Great Hall or some such. To either side of the much-distanced walls was a row of support-columns that traversed the length of the corridor. Of course, naturally, each row was missing part of two or three columns, and they were chipped and rugged enough with age to provide ideal hand-and-footholds for climbing.

But he needed a suitable spot to get the jump on them...after all, if a Mazoku wanted them it seemed highly unlikely that they would actually be willing to go along with him. He peered to either side for a moment, then grinned slowly. Ahhh...perfect. Gloved hands rubbing together, he cackled wickedly-but softly, for a full and satisfying cackle would have strongly defeated the purpose of an espionage-style attack.

Naturally, the Master of Stealth had absolutely no trouble sneaking his way behind one of them, zipping _mostly_ silently from one to another, until he finally found himself behind one that was close enough to serve his purpose.

Again, he employed his masterful sense of furtiveness, clambering to the top of the half-broken pillar with a minimum of shuffling would with all luck be disregarded as imagination or large skulking beast, whichever came first.

"Heh heh..." he grinned wickedly, "Never see it comin'..." He managed to stifle a snicker, shifting his position and waiting for an opportune time to "drop in" on his quarry.

"Little closer..." he murmured under his breath, creeping toward the edge of the column, "C'mon...little more to the left...tha-at's it.……Perfect!" he hissed, creeping just a bit further. The silhouette had moved just close enough for him to pinpoint a landing.

"_Gotcha!_" he exulted, diving down from the top of the damaged column and onto the figure in a diving tackle.

Then...something went wrong. Aric quite suddenly found himself in a remarkably uncomfortable position: pressed face-first into the side of one of the columns that lined the walls, his uncanny sense of balance also notifying him that he was upside down...and that his face and front hurt like unholy hell from slamming with such force into the column. That...wasn't part of the plan.

Slowly, he felt himself sliding down the side of the column, the top of his head contacting the marble floor below with a thankfully not-too-painful thunk, before he dropped down to land flat on his back.

"A-Alright, listen, pal," he said, dragging himself to his feet with the aid of one hand on the side of the column behind him, the other pushing up against the floor, "I dunno who the hell you think you are, but-Whoa."

It goes without saying, "whoa" was not what Aric Winterbourne had originally intended to follow up his conjunction with. It also goes without saying, that the reason he so abruptly changed his mind was because of the sight that met his eyes once he lifted them from the marble floor and to his chosen target.

What was _not_ quite so obvious was the fact that the subject in question was hardly what he had been expecting to find so deep in the middle of an utterly magic-void ruin, sought after by a Mazoku willing to shower him in riches and power, nor one who looked quite able to send him flying across the room.

What his gaze met when he lifted his eyes was a girl.


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Well...technically "girl" wasn't the word.  Not by a longshot.  The young _woman_  standing now across the corridor from him was perhaps equal in height to his own—rather embarrassingly short—stature, clad in a garment that was equally rather similar to his.  The difference being, however, that in spite of the almost simplistic style of the traveler's garb, it was easily of far better quality (and probably rather more expensive) than his own.  The tunic, somewhat baggy on her almost slight frame, was a creamy white in color, virtually unstained, which was surprising, and was trimmed at the fringes of collar and sleeves with golden thread.  Her trousers, baggy like his own, were the same faint beige color as the tunic he wore and as fancy as her own tunic, were tucked into the tops of a pair of mid-shin height boots.  Draped about her shoulders was a light mantle or cloak, white with an interior lining so black it seemed almost to swallow what little light was available.  By far the accessory that caught him most off-guard was the quite wicked-looking battle-hammer hooked at her belt.

Her face was lean, narrow, leading down to a small, almost petite chin, and was framed by locks of long and bright golden hair that seemed to reflect more light than was natural.  The most unique feature of her face, however, was her eyes:  solid black, pupil and iris both, that same light-engulfing black of the inside of her cloak.  She looked to be roughly the same age as himself, judging from her features, so at least the height-issue wasn't too terribly embarrassing. 

"...Whoa..." he repeated, not sounding any more intelligent than the first time.

The girl, for her part, frowned just a tiny bit, somehow managing to make even that expression almost "cute".  "Hn.  No offense, whoever you are, but you make a lousy bandit.  If you're trying to rob me you're not doing a very good job."

"Um."  Yeah.  The old Winterbourne charm shines through every time.

The blonde folded her arms in front of her chest, shifting her weight casually from one foot to the other. "Well, if you're going to try to rob me let's get this over with.  I don't have all day to stand around down here."

"Well, um...you see...that is..."  Think_, you fool!  Quite possibly the most stunning female specimen this side of the Lord of Nightmares Herself is talking to you and all you can do is tie your tongue in knots?_

The young woman waited patiently.

Aric raked the fingers of one gloved hand through his hair, scratching the back of his neck with the same hand. "I'm not here to rob you, I'm...uh...looking for someone." 

"Well, if you're going to greet them like _that_, I certainly hope they're armed or at least armored..."

He cleared his throat into the top of a fist, then glanced back up.  "Yeah, well...um...yeah..." 

The blonde shook her head, waves of the waist-length golden hair that shone so brightly cascading momentarily forward over her shoulders. "Yes, well...Do you at least have a name?"

Ah!  He knew that one! "A-Aric..."  He cleared his throat again and managed to find a firmer voice. "Aric Winterbourne."

The young woman nodded slightly, then lifted a hand to hook a few stray wisps of her hair behind one ear.  "Ellisia," she countered simply, then glanced first to one end of the chamber and then to the other.  "Well...as far as I know I'm the only person in here...why would you be looking for me, though?"

"Well, um...er..." Aric lifted a hand to the back of his neck.

Before he could think of something, though, she shrugged a bit.  "Yes, well, I suppose I'll let you tag along for a bit until I find what I'm looking for.  If we bump into somebody else in here, maybe they'll be the one you're looking for.  Only thing that makes sense, the way I see it."

Aric didn't even have time to respond, much less argue, before Ellisia started walking again.  He rolled his eyes ceilingward and threw his hands up, but saw little other option than to follow.

Ellisia went on talking as she walked, as though taking it as a given that Aric was going to follow her.  "Now, let's see...from what I can tell, even if this place doesn't have what I'm looking for it's bound to contain _something_ important, as thickly layered as the traps I managed to sneak past were.  I must admit, I actually almost tripped one or two."

The same traps that Aric had tripped, every last one of them, on the way down here, no doubt. 

"Tell me something," he said, finally managing to get in a word, "Why exactly is it you're so positive that you're not the one I'm looking for?"

Ellisia didn't even miss a step.  "Well, that should be obvious.  I've never seen you in my life."  That was that.  She said no more on the subject, walking onward.

"Ehrm...by the way, might I ask what it is exactly you were looking for here?" Seemed like an innocent enough question.

"Well, as a matter of fact, I'd much rather you didn't...we'll find it much faster without unnecessary talk, and when I find it you'll _know_ what it is."

Aric frowned as he walked.  He was about two steps away from placing a very satisfying Dil Brand right under her feet...one very large one of those steps being the total lack of magic-use capable here.  Of course, nobody ever said that a good right hook couldn't serve just as well, but he wasn't about to punch a girl, no matter how rude and haughty she seemed.

They walked on in silence for some time, after that.  Apparently the traps had been more thickly-placed further aboveground.  Most likely, whoever had set them hadn't expected anyone to get this far past them.  Thus, travel through the dank ruins was for the most part rather uneventful...

Aric was the first one to feel it, as they passed through that last doorway; Ellisia, if she felt it at all was too focused on the hallway ahead of her to show it.  The sudden surge of power coursing through the air around them once more, that inaudible "hum" he could feel down to his very bones.  Magic But...this ruin was devoid of Magic...

They were screwed.

"Tch—!  Ellisia, hold up…!"

As before, the blonde disregarded him.

"Dammit, Ellisia, I said wait a second!"

She didn't wait.  "That's what the person who set the trap wanted, Aric.  I'd recommend moving at least a body-length forward if not more."

Aric didn't move; instead, he cleared his throat quietly, and politely, lifting one hand to point forward and up, over Ellisia's head.  "You might want to take your own advice, there..."

"_Now_ what are you talking abou—?"

"Diem _Win!_"  Aric didn't give her time to finish, taking advantage of the odd "bubble" in the Astral-void that allowed contact with the Plain to send a formless burst of air at Ellisia's back, propelling her a good several yards toward the opposite end of the room...

...and out of the path of the massive stone slab that was about to drop onto her head.

She whirled abruptly, and from the look on her face was about to chew him out good, when she saw what was standing on _top_ of the slab.

"Damn...!" Aric snarled, drawing his hands down and back as formless bluish light began to gleam between them with a faint hum.  "I hope you know how to use that hammer...!"

The..._thing_...in question was about four times the size of a horse, and it stood on four heavily muscular legs.  However, its size was far from the only difference.  For the most part, the creature's body resembled that of a lion, but the similarity ended when one saw the head that rested on its shoulders.  Rather, all of them.  The traditional lion's head was there, to be sure...no mistaking that.  However, sprouting from the thing's unnaturally broad shoulders to either side of that head were two additional heads:  on the right, a goat's head, and on the left, an eagle's.  In addition, as opposed to a tail ending in a tuft of hair in keeping with the rest of its body, the body of an unnaturally large snake sprouted from where the tail should have been, arching up and over the creature's back so that the serpent's baleful eyes glared at Aric along with all the others. Ellisia was lucky she was behind it.  That end probably looked prettier than what Aric Winterbourne was faced with right now.

"I don't think there'll be a need for that."  Before Aric could ask what she was talking about, her voice rang out again, "Bram _Blazer!_"  A flash of pale blue light exploded against the bizarre creature's posterior, sending it hurtling forward—conveniently enough, right at Aric! 

Of course, he wasn't standing there any longer when it landed, having dived to one side before it could crash into the floor, and more importantly, as the abomination crashed into the floor where he _had_ been, he cast his two hands forward, releasing the gathered Magic he had drawn between them.  "Freeze Brid!"  The light he cast forth, roughly in the shape of a glowing blue globe of energy, exploded against the beast's right shoulder, crystallizing on contact in a great explosion of frost and leaving a thick layer of ice to encase the area it struck.

It took nothing more than a subtle flexing of shoulder-muscles to shatter the ice left behind, but the damage was done.  The burst of cold had been intense enough to damage the flesh: instantaneous frostbite.  Enough of those, and he could do some serious damage to this thing.

Between the space of one breath and the next, before he could even blink, Ellisia was abruptly standing next to him with her mace in one hand, and the other lifted as though ready to hurl another spell.  "It'll take you all day to run it down, at that rate..."

"You got any better ideas?" he shot back, cupping his hands and gathering more frosty magic energy between the palms.

"As a matter of fact..."

He waited.

"...not particularly."

He nearly fell over, at that, but restrained the urge to yell something severely insulting in her direction.  However, the momentary distraction was enough for the creature to regain its bearings and turn on the two of them.

Aric sighed.  Well, guess who that left the hero-stuff up to?  Par for the course.  "See if you can keep it at a distance..."

She gave the slightest of nods, surprising him ever so briefly in her willingness to cooperate.  "I hope you know what you're doing..."

"Yeah, me too..."

Ellisia didn't argue that.  The main reason was that the thing had decided to pounce again, and her voice was occupied at the moment.  "Goz V'row!"  As she cast her free hand toward the floor, the darkness of her own shadow erupted upward from the ground in a writhing, almost fiery mass of blackness, a searing conglomeration of Astral magic that roiled along the ground and into the charging monster.  The resulting blast as the spell dissipated on contact send the beast reeling, and the consequent attack to the Spirit that the Goz V'row spell also entailed left it panting with lionish knees half-buckled as though it had run a good, solid mile. 

"Perfect...!" Aric hissed.  Now was his chance.  Drawing his cupped hands to his right side, as he had for the earlier Freeze Brid, he began to chant in an unearthly echoing voice.

_"You who goes through both Air and Earth;  _

_Gentle flow, floating Water;_

_Gather to my hands and make a glacier!_

_Vice Freeze!"_

Casting his hands forward, Aric unleashed the rapidly growing orb of blue Magic forward, its diameter continuing to increase even as it sailed through the air between the two of them.  He took the brief consideration of snagging the fringe of Ellisia's cloak before sprinting with utmost haste to the furthest corner of the room from the blast-radius, screeching to a halt just before the two of them could collide into the wall.  His back was turned, so he caught only the brilliant blue tint the explosion of light cast on the walls before him...

Turning, after releasing a very irate Ellisia's cloak, he slowly folded his arms across his chest, unable to conceal a small smirk of professional pride.  Where only moments before a slavering, ravenous beast ready to do rather unpleasant things to the two of them had stood, now there was naught but a fog-enshrouded ice-sculpture of a slavering, ravenous beast ready to do rather unpleasant things to the two of them.  As further testament  to the power of the spell, the very walls and floor closest in proximity to the beast were caked with a thick layer of frost.

"Well," Ellisia said, straightening the fringe of her cloak and lifting a hand to smooth out her disarrayed wisps of hair, "That was certainly ostentatious."

Aric merely shrugged.  "I like that spell."

"What _was_ that thing?" Ellisia asked, her tone disgusted.  Aric could tell, as he led the way this time, that the blonde young woman was more shaken than she'd probably care to admit**.  **

"How should I know?" he shot over his shoulder, "Whoever built this place must have had a twisted imagination to put a chimera like that in here."  A chimera was a combination lifeform created by magic from the pieces, or sometimes merely the blood or hair samples, of other creatures.  A chimera wasn't necessarily bound to its creator's will, one of the many reasons why the practice of creating them was unpopular as well as frowned-upon.  After all, it didn't do one much good to make an elephant-sized, humanoid, ant-headed moose with a hyper thyroid problem, only to get gruesomely mutilated by it not a day later.

"They were probably just trying to protect their interests," Ellisia shot back, almost a touch defensively.  The tone surprised Aric, but he just shrugged it off.  She was probably just mad because he'd showed her up back there.

"Yeah, well, right now we have our own interests to be concerned with."

"Like what?"

"How about that?" Aric pointed ahead.

He had stopped so suddenly that Ellisia nearly bumped into him from behind.  "H-Hey, would you watch where I'm—!" she started, but before she could work up any further protest, her eyes were caught by the target of Aric's index-finger.  "Altar...?" 

"No, it's an armchair for an ogre," he quipped, then shrugged.  "Come on.  Let's see what somebody was so determined to protect."

In a heartbeat, Ellisia was suddenly in charge once more.  Breezing past him with the air of regality, she lifted up one fragile-seeming hand to tuck a few strands of golden hair behind her ear, sliding effortlessly up the stairs and to the altar.  Once again, Aric found his attention frozen again.  It was all he could do to stifle another "whoa", before his momentary awe was interrupted by her next words.

"...is this _it_?"

"Huh?" Aric blinked a few times.

She had lifted something up from the top of the altar, a small glass box, and was studying it intently, having ignited a small magic light-globe to float in the air over her head.  Outlined in shadow inside the box, was the object of her skepticism.

"Lemme see that!" Aric demanded, vaulting up the steps two at a time, himself, and almost snatching the box.  When he saw what was inside, he felt his jaw drop.

"We...did all...that...for a single...lousy..."

As it turned out, the small object that he had seen silhouetted within the box was a single, round and flat disc.  A coin...judging from the color and the way the Lighting spell made it shine, platinum or something remarkably similar.  A single, platinum coin.

"We..." Aric's right eyebrow twitched, a warning sign of things to come. "We...almost got killed...we came all the way down here, past all those traps, past that big stupid monster...all...for a lousy...stinking..."

"Coin?" Ellisia supplied.

"Coin!" he snapped off, finishing. 

"Well, I admit, it's a bit of a disappointment..." Ellisia started.  Aric didn't let her finish.

"I can't believe this!  This is the most ridiculous—A bloody Gods-cursed coin!  I swear by the Soiled Trousers of Lei Magnus…who in the _lowest_ bowels of Hell would possibly be so devilishly _stupid_ as to set up all that guard on a measly stinking piece of metal?  Are you _sure_ this is the lowest floor?  There must be some mistake here!  This is just—Whoomphhh!"  The last of his rant, of course, did not come out as expected.  Primarily, this was because a very large, heavy, and hard something had crashed into the back of his skull.  To be more specific, as he would find out later, the blunt side of Ellisia's battle hammer.


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Slowly, Aric blinked his eyes open, then winced, regretting it instantly as he snapped his eyes closed once more. No. Bad idea. Bright light. Not good. Groaning quietly, he shook his head a little...surprised to feel, not cold stone beneath his head, but soft turf and what seemed most likely to be grass tickling at his ears.

Trying the eye-opening thing again, this time more slowly, he began to push himself up on one elbow as the other hand rose to rub the sore bulge at the upper back of his head. Grumbling softly to himself, he swiveled his head in the direction of a soft and melodious feminine, voice humming a light-hearted little tune. The already blurry scenery merged into one colorless blur with the motion so that he regretted it instantly, but it thankfully dissolved again to attempt a more patient refocusing technique when he stopped.

However, apparently the signs of his revival hadn't escaped the source of the music, and the shining patch of gold that was only just resolving itself into hair shifted slightly to glint in the sun. After recovering from the brief instant of blindness that induced, his vision returned to sharper clarity than ever…and such clarity, he marveled as he beheld the radiant beauty from the underground shrine with luxuriant golden tresses and deep, dark eyes, and…

He resisted the urge to give himself a momentary cold shower, since she was currently looking over her shoulder, faintly startled. Upon seeing that it was only him awakening, Ellisia turned her attention forward again. She sat with her back to him, cross-legged, upon her cloak which was spread out upon the grass beneath her. From the way her head was bent, he didn't have to guess what she was doing, even as her soft humming started up again.

Forcing his protesting voice out of momentary strike, he coughed a few times to clear his throat and steady his tone before attempting to speak. "-the hell are _you_ still doing here?" he muttered, discontentedly. Probably not the most tactful thing to say, since she _had_ dragged him back out of the temple after braining him. But she _had_ brained him and that was, at the moment, of more immediate significance.

"Studying the treasure we liberated," she replied matter-of-factly, as though speaking to a child or one brain-addled from too many miscast Mono Volts.

" 'Treasure'?!" He scoffed, quite loudly in fact. "The Golden Stuffed Fish of King Mortimer the Vaguely Impressive was more of a treasure!" Ellisia lifted her head and blinked briefly at the name, before giving a shrug and returning to her supposed work. "Anyway, what's the big idea whacking me over the head if you weren't gonna take the treasure and run?!"

"You were getting overly excitable." Still her voice remained as calm as ever, her position perfectly unruffled and not even a single strand of her flawless golden hair out of place. "And only an uncivilized ruffian would have resorted to such base and vulgar underhanded tactics. If I didn't intend to share the spoils I would not have permitted you to accompany me. Now be a dear and take a look at this. I can't make heads nor tails of it. So to speak."

"Alright, alright, _fine_," Aric snapped, reaching his hand toward the offered box and plucking it out of the young woman's hand, "Let me see that." He plopped the glass case down onto the grass before him, vowing silently to retain his senses and never again be befuddled by--

He never even got to finish his silent vow, for halfway through it he spied her reflection in the glass as the light caught just right, primping her gilded hair and fluttering her eyelashes just so. Biting his tongue to regain his focus, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes, turned the box just so, and then sighed in silent relief when he peeked and saw that the reflection was no longer visible.

Right then. To work. Lifting the case up in his hands again, he bent his head to peer closely, opting for a more elementary sort of investigation before any more in-depth probing. The little platinum disc suspended in the very center of the transparent rectangular case seemed innocent enough; hardly enough to merit all the booby-traps and the great hulking beast set in the path of any interested in procuring it. On one side was a stylized Dragon's head, and on the other what appeared to be the back half of some equine. He bit the inside of his cheek at that, glowering at nothing in particular and instead focusing on the writing along the rim on both sides.

He wasn't much of a linguist, but any third-rate sorcerer knew at least a few obscure runic languages; after all, that was what most books of powerful magics were written in, to keep mere laypersons and demi-human from discerning their secrets. This particular language looked..._vaguely_ familiar, reminiscent of one he was sure he had seen somewhere before, but for the life of him he couldn't place where. It almost seemed as though two separate dialogues had been used, the one on the back side simpler and less archaic than the front. It took him only a few seconds to puzzle out the back, and when he did he blinked momentarily.

"...'In Mort We Trust'?" Aric groaned, clapping a hand to his forehead. "Awh, _dammit_, not _another_ of that idiot's joke-artifacts..."

He flinched when a hand smacked the back of his already aching skull, and he glowered over his shoulder to Ellisia's vaguely irritated face. "You're reading it upside-down, you nit," she said, stabbing a finger at the glass in an effort to point at the coin. "The top of the lettering is on the inside, not on the rim."

"But that's not how coins are printed," he protested, fishing around in his sadly meager pouch and procuring one to show her. "See? Coins are always printed with the tops of the characters facing outward."

"_Monetary_ coins are," she conceded, in the weary tone of one explaining basic mathematics to an eight-year-old. "But this isn't a monetary coin, is it? Otherwise it wouldn't be where it was. And besides, that's just the kind of trick a wily sorcerer would use to throw off some simpleton who happened to bungle their way past his defenses at all odds."

That tore it. Eyes narrowed, he reached up to snag hold of the front of her collar, dragging her down to his level and bringing her almost nose-to-nose. "Listen up, lady! If it wasn't for _me_ you'd have been chimera-chow down there! No, come to think of it, you would have been squished like a bug before the chimera even had the chance!"

"No, _you_ listen," she retorted, as a slender little hand closed around his wrist with a disturbingly strong grip and pried his hand away from her designer shirt. "I was under no obligation to let you tag along with me to begin with; I could have left you in a crumpled little heap under those pillars and claimed the treasure myself. And as for falling traps turning me into paste as you seem so _sweetly_ concerned about,"--She emphasized the stressed word sarcastically, a hard edge to her narrowed eyes--"well, let me demonstrate something to you, little man."

Pushing herself to her feet and daintily dusting off her fancy trousers, she strode toward the entrance of the ruins even as he watched with wide, stunned eyes. She paused before the strangely blue stone, lifting a finger to her petite chin in thought as she surveyed as though looking for something...then gave a decisive nod and crossed to one of the massive stone pillars that lined the front of the structure. Drawing back one tiny foot in a sleek brand-name boot, she delivered a terrific kick, and Aric flinched in anticipation for the sound of delicate toes breaking.

But then he blinked. Delicate toes didn't go _kerunch_ in the manner of, say, centuries-old stone cracking in a heartbeat. At first, he could hardly see the hairline crack that ran all the way around what he could see of the pillar's diameter. He didn't really need to see much more, though, when he saw the ancient dust beginning to sift down, the monolith slowly leaning down, angled to fall just precisely down onto the tiny girl who had by some inexplicable fluke toppled it, and squish her into ignominity.

Except that that didn't happen. For, just as the falling column would have come crashing down onto her head, Ellisia's hands shot up and intercepted it...and, inconceivably, halted its descent. Though it bobbed, briefly, as her arms absorbed the impact like shocks and sand and stone chips rained down, the pillar held steady.

Even as Aric continued to watch, dumbfounded, Ellisia slowly turned with the massive pillar held up over her head, exerting about as much effort as it would take a bodybuilder to lift _her_ surely less-than-substantial weight. Once she stood facing Aric himself, her back resolutely to the edifice behind her, she shifted her weight back just enough to get the proper leverage--then _hurled_, sending the blue-stone column flying. Aric shielded his eyes on reflex as it soared toward him, too paralyzed to even dive for cover. He _was_, however, able to hear it sail _over_ his head, and he recovered the gumption to turn and follow its flight-path just in time to see it come crashing end-down somewhere in the woods surrounding the labyrinth, standing firm and solid like some strange blue tree, recently transplanted...if a little tilted.

Eyes still wide, Aric slowly turned back toward Ellisia--who was busy dusting off her hands and brushing blue sand from her creamy tunic--blinked a few times, and promptly fainted.

By the time he awakened again, the sun was already quite a distance across the sky, so they simply opted to make camp at the entrance to the ruins. Aric still didn't feel quite confident enough to even mention the earlier incident, nevermind ask how--and Ellisia volunteered nothing, so they simply spent the evening in vaguely uncomfortable silence around a small cook-fire, ate a simple and not particularly tasty stew made with water created by his magic and a small array of vegetables stored in her pack, and curled up in their respective cloaks to sleep.

The next morning it was agreed that, since neither of them could discern anything particularly remarkable about the coin other than that it was in fact somehow magical, they would accompany one another to the nearest village to sell it, and then divide the earnings evenly. Aric half-expected Ellisia to dispute this, but when he dared to question she idly tossed off a comment that he _had_ been "remotely useful" in procuring it. Aric, himself, had no objection to the notion either. In spite of her snooty, self-centered and conceited attitude, she _was_ still a stunningly beautiful example of the female persuasion. And she didn't seem _all_ bad, especially in a clinch.

Thus it was that mid-morning the next day saw them striding down the simple country road, a strip of jerky between Aric's teeth and a hand-mirror in Ellisia's hand angled for optimum peripheral vision, as she primped her hair with her other hand. In a gesture of goodwill and mutual trust, the coin in its glass box was carried out in the open, clearly visible from Ellisia's belt-pouch--It was in _Ellisia's_ pouch because of a minor dispute that ended in another demonstration of her strength, after which Aric had promptly decided he trusted her after all. If nothing else, things were at least somewhat less uncomfortable than the night before.

Ellisia was the first to try her hand at conversation. "You know," she said idly, neither looking up from the road, nor from the mirror--an impressive feat in itself, being able to keep track of both--"There are a few things about you that could use improvement."

So much for civility. He angled a mild scowl in her direction, set for the moment on "chill disapproval". "Is that so?" he asked neutrally.

"Well," she began, slipping her hand-mirror into her pack in a motion fluid with practiced ease, easing into the tone of a lecturer from the Sorcerer's Guild, "for one thing, you really should take up a weapon of some kind. No self-respecting sorcerer goes around unarmed."

"Don't believe in 'em," he tossed off lightly, shrugging and folding his hands behind his head, as he continued to while away a bite of the leathery-tough jerky at the corner of his mouth. "'F my magic can't get me out of a scrape, I just ain't meant to get out of it."

"Magic can't solve everything for you," she countered, finally glancing toward him with a delicate golden eyebrow arched over one darker-than-midnight eye. "What if you have to fight someone who specializes in Fire Shamanism? All your Water spells would be canceled out. For that matter, what if you ran into something that wasn't hurt by water or ice?"

"That's why I fall back on other things than Shamanism." He shrugged, bringing one hand around to grasp the strip of jerky so he could tear away the bite he had finally managed to worry off the end. "It's not the only kind of combative magic out there, you know."

"Black Magic," she sniffed disdainfully, as though the phrase were a term of vulgarity.

"It works," he defended his secondary specialty, inspired by a very particular source.

"Doesn't work on Mazoku," she retorted almost sharply, making him blink.

"Does on some of them. But not much at all works on the upper-level ones. Even the Ra Tilt won't kill the big nasties." He shrugged again, finally swallowing the bite of jerky and taking hold of the strip between his teeth again to start on bite number two. "Maybe something like a Dragon Slave, I guess. But Black Magic works about as often as Astral Shamanism, and with a lot more tangible results."

"A Dragon Slave isn't more powerful than a Ra Tilt," Ellisia corrected immediately, "just more destructive. And anyway--"

The impromptu debate on magical precepts was interrupted, sharp as ice cracking in the heat, by a sound that made Aric freeze in his tracks.

"A_hahahahahaha_!" The laughter came from the foliage above and to the left, trite and overly-dramatized--and even with a faint echo magically thrown into the sound-amplifying spell for effect. "I might have known I'd find you doing something inane like this, Winterbourne!"

Ellisia stopped a bit later, at the mention of Aric's name, and she glanced over her shoulder at him with both brows raised. Aric, though, was too busy groaning with a hand clapped to his brow, letting out a long-suffering sigh after the noise. "Sweet Lord of Nightmares, not _him_..." Reaching to pluck the jerky out of his mouth, he tossed it regretfully aside. He wasn't going to be needing it at this point. "Emilio, will you can the dramatics and come out from there? You're embarrassing yourself!"

Ell continued to blink at him, still rather out-of-sorts with the situation, as he turned to face the treeline with crossed arms.

Mere moments later, a figure emerged--no, _two_ figures, which startled even Aric. Emilio looked the same as always, landing on one knee in true dramatic form. At full height he stood, of course, significantly taller than Aric by almost a full head, platinum-white hair combed immaculately down over his left eye, as the other peered chillingly blue from beneath the shadow that partially obscured it. As he slowly stood, his folded-down leather boots creaked audibly in the silent stillness, which also made the rustling of his loose gray pants more prominent. Studded black leather bracers adorned his forearms, matching the sleeveless high-collared black shirt he wore. Belted at his left hip was an ornamental but very, very functional falchion, which he drew with a flourish to point the single-edged and slightly-curved blade in Aric's direction with tangible menace.

His companion, however, was new. She was easily a rival for Ellisia in terms of looks, in a darker sort of way: long, lustrous hair the color of raven-feathers, with eyes the mottled gray of a timber-wolf's pelt--which was rather fitting, since it seemed that was how she had patterned her attire. The only clothing she wore was a single sleeveless tunic that covered her from shoulders to just above the knees, all of gray wolf's fur (or some magical facsimile, possibly), cinched at the waist by a belt of the same. Wolf's-hide wrist-bands complimented the tunic, and even her boots were made of wolf's-hide bound together by some leather-like twine. The only thing about her besides her hair that seemed to upset the scheme was the weapon in her hands.

The sword was nearly as long as she was tall, its blade as broad as Aric's straight-fingered hand. The entire affair, from point to pommel, was an eerie inky black that didn't seem to be obsidian _or_ damascus, but rather composed itself of tangible shadow. Along the length of the blade, to either side of the fuller, were two lines of scarlet runes etched into the metal (if it even was metal), glowing faintly with their own inner illumination and leaving subtle afterimages with each motion the sword made.

"I don't believe you've met before," Emilio began, gesturing to his new colleague by way of introduction. "This is Lhynn. Poor girl doesn't really talk, but I assure you she's quite lethal in the art of the blade." Glancing toward the dark-haired young woman, who stood with her sword held point-up behind her back in an inverted fist--how she could hold that weapon in one hand so effortlessly still baffled Aric--he continued. "Lhynn, kindly relieve the young lady of the Artifact, would you?"

With only a curt nod, the dark-haired woman moved turned toward a slowly comprehending Ellisia, and even as Aric moved to intercept Emilio side-stepped to bar his path. "Can't let you do that, Winterbourne," the platinum-haired man replied, lifting his empty hand and conjuring up a ball of magical flame ready for casting. "Now draw your sword!"

A bead of sweat rolled down Aric's temple as he lifted an index-finger. "Ah, Emilio, I don't carry a sword. Remember?"

The other sorcerer fell over with a muffled crash, the Fireball sputtering out. He hastily pushed himself back to his feet, scrambling to regain his composure, though the dramatic character of the situation was long since beyond his grasp. "Still?! Well, you need to _get_ one, Winterbourne! Or at _least_ a staff! Who ever heard of a sorcerer with no weapon at all?"

"Don't _you_ start," Aric grunted, slowly uncrossing his arms and letting his feet slide apart. Emilio may have been a moron, but Aric had to admit he was still a competent sorcerer and a potentially dangerous foe...and one who would not move without a fight. "What do you want _this_ time, anyway?" Aric demanded, both to divert the conversation away from his lack of a weapon and to try and keep his opponent talking.

"Don't be daft, Aric!" Emilio replied loftily, sweeping his fingers through his platinum-white hair, struggling to regain his verbal upper-hand. "Surely you can't mean to say you don't even _realize_ what you carry!"

"What are you _babbling_ about?!" Aric demanded, balling a fist before him so tightly that his glove creaked over his knuckles, and taking an aggressive step forward. "Out with it, Emilio! No games! I'm not in the mood to play around."

"I'll tell you what," the platinum-haired sorcerer said coolly, again combing fingers down the forward fall of his hair. "Best me, if you can, and I'll pass on to you the sordid tale I learned of these mystical relics. Fail, of course, and I shall simply have to take it and leave you with no--"

"_Freeze Brid!_"

Emilio froze--literally, as Aric released the spell he had been charging the whole of his would-be nemesis' tirade. Emilio Van Strahd never changed. Ever pretentious, ever self-important, and ever a student of drama. Aric didn't have time for drama at the moment. Not sparing a second, he strode casually around the sorcerer coated in a thin layer of ice, toward where Ellisia was dealing with Emilio's new sidekick.

In all actuality, it rather looked as though his help wouldn't be needed at all. Ellisia was holding her own nicely, proving that hammer she carried was more than simply for show and clouting innocent sorcerers from behind. It had never occurred to Aric that a battle-hammer could be used to parry a sword, but Ellisia was setting the bar, as it were. Using the metal shaft to catch swings of the raven-haired woman's eerie black blade, she would then push them aside and swing, recovering nicely even when she missed and struck the unyielding ground. She fought as though the hammer were completely weightless…which wasn't entirely surprising, considering her stunt the previous day.

But this "Lhynn" was doing more than simply "holding her own". The woman was obviously an expert at her trade, masterfully wielding her own great sword as though it too were weightless. _Two_ super-strong women in two days? Aric frowned and shifted his weight from foot to foot. His luck certainly wasn't improving.

It was during another brief moment of clashing, blade locked against metal shaft as the two pushed against each other, that Ell saw Aric over her enemy's shoulder. "Well, don't just _stand_ there, you oaf!" she blurted upon spying him. "Do something!"

The distraction would have been a mistake, had Aric been any slower, for Lhynn didn't even bother to look and instead took advantage of Ellisia's distraction to gain a leverage advantage. Shoving the other woman back, she struck out with a foot to kick the blonde in the stomach, driving the wind from her lungs. Before she could swing the fatal blow, Aric drew his hands up over his head, gathering power into them and speaking the incantation faster than he had ever chanted before.

_"Dark Lord, who dwells in the cold, lonely Sea;_

_Deep Sea Dolphin, lost child of Madness;_

_With your dark blessing, defeat the fools who stand before me!_

_Dolf Stlash!!"_

The power ignited between his hands _roughly _in the form of a lance (if only in the sense that it was oblong and vaguely pointed at the front), darker than shadow, the same black as Lhynn's blade, though it struggled in his hands as his clothing and hair and cloak whipped about as though in a localized typhoon. The bolt of Black Magic power sailed straight and true as he hurled it, tearing apart the very air as it screamed its way at the swordswoman.

Time seemed to slow. Aric could see Lhynn turn, see her eyes widen the tiniest fraction in surprise--and then time decided to catch up, skipping a few beats in a blur. Aric blinked, then blinked again to see…not only the warrior woman standing unharmed with her sword crossed before her body, the scarlet runes on its surface flickering momentarily brighter before dimming again, but not so much as a handful of dirt disturbed. He knew that spell: that was a rather destructive spell. It should have at least scattered some leaves and thrown about some dirt, even if blocked with an Astral Vine-enhanced sword and especially if dodged.

While Aric was still assimilating this, Lhynn turned away without a word and raised her sword, just in time to block a hard swing from Ellisia's hammer. Before Aric could collect himself and ready another spell, he heard the distinctive sound of ice cracking and shattering, and turned to find himself on the wrong end of a sword-point opposite a very irate Emilio.

"Bad form, Winterbourne, but I'd expect no less from your ilk." This time Emilio didn't delay either; he withdrew the point of his sword to level it horizontally, parallel with his shoulders, and laid a pointing index-finger upon the flat. For a moment, Aric blinked in confusion…a dangerous mistake, because by the time he realized the fingertip was beginning to glow it was too late. _"Burst Rondo!"_

Reflexively, Aric lifted his arms to shield his eyes as a series of fist-sized globes of flame burst into being and exploded around him, producing more flash and sound and smoke than actual heat. He staggered back, by instinct, just in time to feel the passing wind of Emilio's falchion passing through the air where he had been.

When the smoke finally cleared and Aric could see--and breathe--again, He saw only Emilio, standing with the dull side of his falchion propped against his shoulder and a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

"Hah!" Aric scoffed, slowly crossing his arms and matching smirk for smirk. "You're getting sloppy, Van Strahd. That was a grandiose waste."

The platinum-haired sorcerer said nothing, simply lifting his empty hand to breathe on his knuckles and then rubbing them against the collar of his shirt. Aric blinked slightly, then looked up…and groaned, wearily. "Awh, sh--"

The branch that landed on his head wasn't heavy enough to send him back to an early sleep, but it left him staggering and dazed, just long enough for Emilio to work up his next spell.

_"Fireball!"_ The resulting explosion sent Aric tumbling end over end, coming to a rather painful stop when he collided with the base of a tree. He surged to his feet, hands cupped to his side as sparkling blue lights gathered between them, but Emilio was already out of sight.

It took only a glance up to find him, standing in the fork of a peculiarly-shaped tree with Lhynn lounging on one of the sturdier branches to his left. Even as Aric spied him he was sheathing his falchion, and in his left hand…he casually tossed a small, platinum disc with his thumb, snatching it out of the air and then flipping it again. A quick scan revealed Ellisia lying face-down in the road a short distance away, sparkling shards of shattered glass littering the dirt nearby.

"Ell!" Aric lunged toward her, but before he could get more than a step another Fireball erupted at his feet. He turned to glare venomous daggers at Emilio, who snatched the coin out of the air one more time before pocketing it and sweeping fingers through his hair.

"She'll be fine," the other sorcerer assured coolly, lifting an eyebrow the same platinum-white as his hair. "I'm a treasure-hunter, Winterbourne, not a murderer. Sorry to counter dirty pool with dirty pool, but I'm in something of a hurry. I'll tell you what, though: If you want this Artifact back, and want to know the secrets behind it…beat me to the next piece. There's an old, abandoned sorcerer's tower about a day's trip southwest of here. The next piece, the Armor, is sealed at the bottom of the sorcerer's underground laboratory. If you've any semblance of a spine, Winterbourne, I'll see you there!"

With that, both Emilio and Lhynn leaped upward, vanishing into the foliage overhead, Emilio leaving a final "A_hahahahahaha!_" in their wake. For a moment, Aric debated launching himself after them, but a soft groan from behind alerted him to higher priorities.

"Ell…!" Picking his way around the scattered shards of broken glass as best he could, he moved to where she lay, gently searching out her shoulder beneath the white of her cloak and using it to roll her onto her back. Her eyes, which had been half-opening, winced closed at the sudden light and she gave voice to another groan.

Frowning, he checked her over briefly for injuries…and found none, as Emilio had promised. Her hammer lay a couple yards away, her hair was a little mussed and she grimaced in obvious pain, but he could find no sign of permanent damage, blade-wound or otherwise. Reluctantly, worriedly, he kneeled next to her and bent low. "You okay…?"

His initial answer was a dainty gloved fist to his jaw, rocking him back and setting the countryside to slow-waltzing around him. When he could focus again he saw Ellisia pushing herself up with one hand, the other lifted to her temple. "Do I _look_ okay?" she groaned irritably, slowly shaking her head. Then, surprising him, she glanced at him from the corner of her eye and mumbled a very quiet, almost inaudible, "ah, sorry."

Still rubbing his jaw, Aric found his glower stifled by the unexpected apology. He waved it off without a word, however, squatting in place with his elbows on his knees. "What happened?"

"She kicked me," Ellisia replied, rather offhandedly Aric noticed with a suspicious frown. But he didn't say anything. Instead, he glanced down at the broken glass with a frustrated sigh.

"Emilio got the coin," he started, but she cut him off with a lifted hand.

"I heard. Who _was_ that guy, anyway? If that's a friend of yours, I can see why you greet them from above and out of sight."

"Emilio's…" Aric frowned for a moment…then took a deep breath and released a sigh. "It's complicated. I first ran into Emilio Van Strahd a few years ago…not too long after I graduated the Sorcerer's Guild and started the whole 'adventuring sorcerer' bit. I beat him to a treasure he had been tracking down for months, completely by accident, and ever since he's had the impression that I'm his arch-nemesis or something. The girl, I don't know anything about--she's new." He shrugged, glancing over his shoulder in the direction the treasure-hunter had disappeared. "I hate to concede a win to that idiot, even if I _don't_ really care about his so-called rivalry, but--"

"We have to go after him," Ell interrupted, her tone resolute and her eyes hard.

"Look, it's just a trinket. I'm sorry your trip was a bust and all, but…"

Her hand lifted up to seize hold of his collar, and she brought him down until he was almost nose-to-nose with her. "We're going after him."

"We're going after him," he agreed, suddenly feeling very, very tired.


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Trudging through clouds of mosquitoes, pools of brackish muck and occasional patches of sodden peat-grown, supposedly "dry" ground would not have been Aric's first choice, had he been asked how he wished to spend a day recuperating from a run-in with his would-be nemesis Emilio Van Strahd.  A closer estimate would have likely been "curled up in a plush Emperor-sized bed with a petite golden-haired beauty under one arm and a raven-haired vixen (who, in his own rather personalized little fancy, bore suspicious resemblance to Ellisia and Lhynn) under the other, and a personal view of Emilio himself dancing on hot coals" (Aric's imagination always had been pretty specific).

But no, here he was, trudging through said clouds and pools and patches, lead by a surprisingly determined (and even more surprisingly unheeding of muck and grime) Ellisia, who strode on ahead regardless of the staining of her fine boots and pants.  Of course, this may have been because every time they came to a particularly mucky pool, she immediately snatched off Aric's cape and dropped it over the mess before walking across upon that--his once fine white mantle was now becoming somewhat more of a foul-smelling beige, in spite of all attempts to magically clean it with on-the-spot spells between puddles.

Worse yet, not a single blood-sucking insect seemed to have any interest in her at all...meaning the only available target left for them to gravitate to was Aric.  For the first few hours, picking them off with Dust Chip spells had been faintly amusing, whiling away the time after he got his cloak as clean as he could, but there were so many that they were beginning to weave past his defenses, and in the distraction he almost managed to walk into pools or trees on several occasions.

"You know," he said at last, after a small cooling spell to the air around him had finally dissuaded enough bloodsuckers that he could talk without swallowing a few, "I still don't see why we couldn't just fly over all this.  That nimrod Emilio is going to be leagues ahead of us at this rate."

"Two reasons," Ellisia said coolly, raising one hand without even looking over her shoulder with two fingers lifted.  "First," she ticked off, "because that's probably _exactly_ what the buffoon wants.  If we tried to fly, he probably has some sort of ambush set up here in the swamp to catch us and blow us out of the air.  Second," she lowered the other finger and subsequently her hand, "because it would be a waste of time to fly all the way to the tower only to find that the entrance was in the thick of all this tangled mess, with no place to land, thus forcing us to fly all the way _back_ even if we weren't ambushed--or survived the ambush--and still trudge through this muck."

Unable to argue with such logic--and too brain-clouded by bog stench and mosquito buzzing anyway--Aric fell back on his only remaining recourse of sulking and fending off bugs and the occasional snake.  He was just about to question how sure she was of their direction again when she reached back to once again snatch the cape from around his shoulders and drop it across a small stretch of brackish water barring their path, with only a single log lying in its middle to serve as a foot-step.  He sighed wearily as she stepped daintily across, and he began to follow himself, muttering under his breath how he was going to charge her for the new cape he was buying after this.  But then something went wrong: the log lurched aside when he stepped on it and he plopped right into the dirty muddy water with a resounding, sucking squelch.

That wasn't right.  Logs didn't lurch.  They bobbed, sometimes they rolled, but they didn't lurch like...like something living that had been stepped on.

Ellisia had actually stopped at the sound of his ignominious fall, and was scowling cutely with her fists on her hips.  "Aric, stop wasting time and playing in the mud!  We have work to do!"

At first, Aric was too busy doing his best trying to find a clean place on his sleeve to wipe mud out of his eyes.  Then he was too busy trying not to get eaten.

It seemed that alligators--or crocodiles, Aric could never really get them straight--were not partial to being stepped on, nor to being tangled up in dirty sorcerer's cloaks when they tried to escape being stepped on.  Whichever term applied to this toothy reptile, the distinct certainty was that it had a very particular way of dealing with that which annoyed it.  Even sorcerers were very much susceptible to ravenous jaws with the strength to bite a horse in half, and Aric wasn't eager to test whether that on-the-spot estimation of strength was accurate.  Trying to scramble away only bought him very little distance, unable to get much solid purchase in the mucky water and ground, and trying to cast a spell at this range would either cause too much collateral damage (on his person, of course) or end up freezing him right into the water he was trying to escape.

Ell's solution was more practical, as she unslung her hammer from its belt harness and advanced, but as broad and heavy as that tool looked, he wasn't quite so sure he preferred it.  If she missed by even a slender margin...

But it wasn't the head of the hammer she was using.  Rather, she gripped the metal shaft above the handle, upside-down with the head close to her body, and she...poked the scaled predator in the ribs.  Agitated, the alligator turned its beady eyes from its current muddy morsel and to the source of this new annoyance...and locked one eye with Ellisia's dark pools of inky ocular menace.  For a long moment, the gaze held, Ell simply glaring vicious hateful needles of icy death down at the frozen beast.  Then, inexplicably, like a dog threatened with a belt it was all too familiar with, the alligator fled with its tail literally between its legs, carrying with it a great deal of splashing and the tattered remains of Aric's cape.

Eyes wide, Aric turned to look up at Ellisia, uncomprehending, silently questioning.

"He knew a bigger predator when he saw one," she explained simply...and, to Aric's surprise, she offered one of her immaculate white gloves down to help him up.  Hesitantly, he took it, unable to quell his startled reaction when she lifted him up with the greatest of ease even after seeing demonstrations of her prodigious strength before.  Slinging her hammer back down into her belt-harness, she raised both hands and began mouthing a soft spell, White Magic energy gathering into a whiter-than-white globe of light around her hands...and then spreading until it engulfed his field of vision.  When it was over, not only was her glove thoroughly cleansed of muck...but so was he, and so were his clothes.  He blinked in confusion, looking back up to her, and she simply shrugged.  "I added the insect-repellant spell, as well."

Then, suddenly, her expression changed back to businesslike as she stepped back and crossed her arms.  "Now are you through wasting time?  We've got a thief to catch, a treasure to recover and Armor to liberate!"

"Ah...right."  He frowned a little, still disconcerted by the drastic change, but he followed without argument when she turned to sweep on her determined way.  He still felt a little off-kilter traveling without his cape, but he'd make do until reaching another town.

"Well, I hate to say 'I told you so', but..."  In spite of his frustration, Aric couldn't conceal a slightly smug smirk. They had found the tower, sure enough, just as Emilio had promised.  And, while Ellisia had been right about a ground-floor entrance in the thick of the underbrush, what she hadn't counted on was that entrance being hopelessly collapsed into a mound of rubble even Ellisia's profound superhuman might couldn't wedge free without bringing the whole wall down on them.

Huffing in indignant frustration, Ellisia turned a glare on him that could freeze magma.  "Fine then, Mister Sorcery Genius, what do _you_ propose we do now?  Do you think your 'associate' anticipated _this_?"  She gestured grandly to the ruined entrance with one arm, in an elegant sweeping motion that looked out of place with her face contorted in ire.

"Simple," he replied, lifting a single finger in the manner of a Sorcerer's Guild lecturer.  Then he turned the motion into a point upward, toward the tangled foliage overhead.  "The whole tower can't be ruined, right?  Why climb when you can _fly_?  We fly up there, find a window--or _make_ one if we have to--get in, blast our way to the bottom and get the treasure.

"Please," she dismissed, waving the idea aside like a stray fly.  "Even _if_ the branches weren't too thick overhead for us to fly from here, no idiot sorcerer would just put windows on a tower where he studied magic, even if his real lab _was_ deep underground--for just this sort of reason. And I really don't think blasting holes in this tower would be the most brilliant ide--"

She didn't get to finish, for Aric was already charging magic between his hands, and he finished just in time to cut her off.  _"Bomb Di Win!"_  He hurled the globe of compressed air floating between his cupped hands--visible only as a vaguely spherical distortion of air--straight upward, then shielded his eyes with an arm as it struck overhead and exploded violently, sending leaves and branches and other natural shrapnel flying.  _"Bram Gash!"_ he followed with, flinging the free arm up in a rapid arc, sending arrow-shaped shockwaves up to catch the bigger pieces of falling debris and shred them.  Dusting his hands as the fine powder that was leaf and branch came showering down, he glanced to Ellisia with a lifted eyebrow.  While she seemed at something of a loss, she didn't argue.

"Done and done.  Now then..."

_Wham!_

Oh.  Now she was going to argue.  Peeling himself off the tree Ellisia had knocked him into with her hammer, he glared and rubbed the back of his head.  "Oww...what's the big idea?!"

"You idiot!" she growled, drawing back the hammer in preparation for another swing.  "Are you _trying_ to alert the entire tri-city-state area to our presence here?"

"Look, lady, we already have a long way to go and no time for all this 'subtlety' nonsense!  What are you, a royal spy or something?"  He frowned, suspiciously, even as he began to work the kinks out of his system, popping a few joints here and there.  "We needed a way in, I found us a way in.  Now are you coming or not?"

"...ugh."  Slinging her hammer away again, she lifted a hand to her temple to groan...then rather belatedly realized that she too was dusted with a faint layer of powdered leaves and wood, and hastily whipped out both a clothing-brush and a comb to begin expertly restoring her appearance to "immaculate" once again.  With that done, as Aric rolled his eyes, she pocketed the items and cleared her throat softly.  "Well, I suppose at this stage we have little enough choice.  Very well, then.  _Levitation_..."

Aric frowned as she began to slowly rise from the ground, and he slowly shook his head.  "You'll take forever getting up there, at _that_ rate," he chided, raising his hand to snap his fingers over his head.  "Ray_wing!_"  Careful to keep his body positioned vertically even as the airy shield-bubble formed around his person, he drifted close enough just in time to snatch a wide-eyed Ellisia's collar before she could object, shooting upward with her in tow.

"What are you_ doing_, you buffoon?!" she blurted, even as she watched the sweet solid ground below go bye-bye at an alarming rate.  "How do you expect to maintain this _and_ blow a hole in the tower wall?  You're going to get us both killed!"

"Easy!  I fly, you blast!"

For a moment, she seemed to choke on air.  Then, he could see from the corner of his eye, she took a deep breath and began to slowly count backward from ten, mouthing the numbers silently.

Fortunately, by the physiological rules of the spell, greater altitude meant less acceleration.  Thus, the further they rose, the slower they moved, which suited his purposes just fine.  When they reached a point at which the spell had almost completely halted locomotion, he gestured to the (conspicuously blank and window-less) stone wall before them, with his free hand, having shifted the other somewhere along the way up to a grip around her middle that, while faintly distracting, was not in danger of choking or disrobing her.  Ell still clearly wasn't happy with the positioning, but also apparently realized it was better than the alternative.

Without a word, she took a good sight of the wall, then raised her hands toward it, closed her eyes and began to gather power.  Snapping them suddenly open, the extended hands convulsed with a surge of power, and almost half a dozen small globes of light appeared in the air around her extended arms, vibrating strongly enough to give off a subdued and almost melodic hum.  _"Dam Brass!"_ she called out, and the globes of force rocketed toward the wall, blasting it apart on impact and sending blocks tumbling inward--at least, the ones it didn't blast into powder entirely.

"Nice," Aric approved, slowly drifting inside and allowing the two of them to set down amidst the rubble.  He flinched, reflexively, at the sight of damaged furniture and a shorn tapestry as a result of the entrance, but it _had_ been his idea and it was too late for regrets at this point.

"Now what?" Ell asked, all business once more.  "More of the same?"

"Nah, my turn now."  Slowly walking toward what he could best gauge as the center of the room, Aric began tying to shove as much debris out of the way as he could, with boots and feet--and when she got a glimmer of what he was doing, Ellisia stepped forward to help.  Once he gestured that it was sufficient, she backed away the same as he did, stopping the same distance from the cleared circle as he.  Indicating that she should remain where she was, he strode toward the edge of the cleared circle and kneeled, closing his eyes and placing both his palms on the cold stone, whose roughened texture he could feel even through his gloves.

_"Blast Wave!"_  It wasn't an uncommon spell in his line of adventuring, so the Black Magic power was easy enough to wrest under his command.  He was also prepared, from experience, and managed not to lose his balance as the floor began to glow in a circle beneath his hands...and then disappeared, leaving a perfectly even circle of displaced stone, which opened down into the next floor, wide enough for each of them to drop through one at a time.

He glanced up to Ellisia, to gauge her reaction--this was the second time he had used a Black Magic spell before her, after her blatant expression of dislike for them.  Her expression was no different from normal, though, and she waited for him to descend first before following behind.

They had to repeat this cycle quite a few times--though subsequently with less debris clearing and more cobweb-removal--before finally reaching what Ellisia dubbed firmly as the ground floor.  Sure enough, the collapsed entry-way was there, though otherwise the room was conspicuously blank.  The only features of any real note were the stairs up and the trapdoor obviously leading down below.

It was locked, they found, but the boards were so old and rotten that even Aric had no difficulty prying them up, not having to rely on Ellisia's strength in this instance.  Odd, he mused, that a sorcerer would rely on something as mundane as a standard lock, instead of--

_Awh, crap._  "Ell?"

"Yes?"

"Duck!"

"Where..?--_urk!_"

Diving aside with the grip he had snagged on her collar, Aric just barely avoided the blast of raw Black Magic energy that would have deprived them both of their heads.

He lay for a moment, waiting to make absolutely sure that the flare had come to a stop...then tried to push himself up and found that he couldn't.

"Ell?"

"Yes?"

"You can let go now."

"Oh."  Flustered, she hastily released the grips where her fingers had come dangerously close to tearing the fabric of his shirt, and pushed herself to her feet with exaggerated nonchalance, primping her hair casually.  "Right.  Of course.  Now, shall we go?"

_Women..._ he thought quietly, slowly shaking his head.  Aloud he said, "Yeah, sure.  Come on," as he rose as well.

It wasn't until they reached the foot of the first flight of stairs that he felt it again, and from the way Ell froze she did as well.  "Astral-sealed," he stated the obvious for her, simply for the record.  "Just like the other one."

"Somebody didn't want Mazoku claiming whatever these 'Artifacts' are," Ellisia surmised pensively.  Aric blinked and frowned slightly; he hadn't thought of that.  He had assumed it was a simple anti-sorcerer defense mechanism...but it made sense.

Suddenly, he blinked.  _Mazoku!_  He had forgotten all about Galamoth and their deal!  In all the activity that had ensued with his meeting with Ell and the subsequent chaos, it had completely slipped his mind.  ...of course, until Galamoth actually appeared, there wasn't a great deal he could actually do anyway; the Mazoku would show up when it suited him and that was that.  Nothing to do until then except carry on with the current course.

"Aric?"  Ellisia peered back around the corner from where she had resumed advancing, a perplexed frown gracing her delicate features.  "You coming?  Don't tell me you're scared."

"'Course not," he shot back, lifting hands to straighten the collar of his cloak and finding no cloak there.  for lack of anything better to do with his hands, he cracked his knuckles and then breezed past her.  "Come on, we might still be able to catch up to Emilio."

With Ellisia along, this particular dungeon-crawl wasn't quite so gray-hair-inducing.  In spite of her moment of panic at the entrance, Ell proved to be quite level-headed, and it seemed she hadn't been boasting about not springing any traps in the last locale.  She seemed to have an eye for spying out suspicious ground or walls, and even the few they tripped were avoided with much less frantic running and panic.  He was beginning to think this "partner" thing might not be so bad.

Of course, the point at which he began to think that was about the point when they reached the massive double-doors that could only possibly be the entrance to the bottommost floor, the great treasure, the grand magical Artifact that this whole sordid fiasco had lead up to.  Ellisia, of course, was in the lead and she reached to take hold of the great brass handles, pulling them open with about as much effort as she would probably use to open a dresser to pick her evening gown.

The doors swung open, slowly, inexorably, as the two adventurers backed away.  Inch by tantalizing inch, slowly revealing the contents of the chamber, the undoubtedly vast horde of accumulated knowledge and magical power, which consisted of...

...absolutely nothing.

Ellisia fell flat onto her face, even as the doors boomed hollowly against the walls to either side, and Aric blinked a few times to make certain his eyes were not deceiving him.

It was no trick of the eye, no hallucination.  The room was completely blank, a fact which was cast into sharp relief by the magical light-globes hovering over their heads.  It was simply a grand, circular chamber, no doors other than the one in which they were standing and a ceiling that stretched off into impenetrable darkness.  Even the spiders seemed to have forsaken this place, for there was no sign of webbing anywhere.

As Ellisia peeled herself off the floor, Aric strode slowly into the room, folding his arms across his chest with a speculative frown.  "Now this is anticlimactic.  That's not like Emilio.  Which means just one thing."

He slowly turned toward the doorway, even as Ellisia moved to join him within the chamber and turned to follow his ruby-chip gaze...which settled directly on the doorway from whence they'd come.

"Three...two..."

"A_hahahaha_--"

_"Freeze Arrow!"_

The laughter was cut off, sharply, as the twin shadowy figures dove to either side of the doorway and into the room, narrowly avoiding the cluster of arrow-shaped ice projectiles that had flown from Aric's cupped hands.  He smirked--at least this dungeon had one thing in common with the last: the bottom chamber was once again a bubble of power in the Astral void.

"You know, Winterbourne, you have no gift for drama," Emilio chided as he rose to his feet, scowling in a manner that completely offset his demeanor.  On the other side Lhynn rose as silently as ever, save for her great blade scraping subtly across the stones as she drew it into position.  "That's your problem."

"You know what your problem is, Van Strahd?" Aric countered, casually forming a ball of glittering blue Water magic over his up-turned palm.

"No, what?"

"You talk too much."  He snapped his fingers and the ball of magic over his hand vanished with an almost comical little "pop".

Blinking, Emilio frowned in puzzlement--then with a rather wearied expression, he slowly looked up, just in time to see the Freeze Brid spell come crashing down onto his head from above, splashing white light across him almost like a ball of true water, freezing him in a small block of ice.

"Game, set and match," Aric said, dusting his hands off and then turning to the woman.  "And now I believe it's your turn, Miss--eh?"  For Lhynn was nowhere in sight.  Ran out after seeing him deal with Emilio…?

Suddenly, he flinched.  She had used _his_ trick, taking action while the enemy was busy patting himself on the back.  He groaned, deciding he had spent entirely too much time associating with Emilio, even as he turned toward the center of the chamber where Ellisia and Lhynn had locked blade-and-hammer once again.  'Least he had Ell around, he mused, or that could have been a downright disastrous moment.

Aric found himself torn.  Try and help Ellisia again--as fruitless as the last attempt had been before--or try and figure out a way to recover the coin from a very frozen Emilio.  Lifting a hand to his chin, he frowned in thought.  Ell seemed to be doing well enough, but she had been before as well and had somehow been incapacitated while his back was turned.  On the other hand, Emilio had already gotten away with the treasure once, and was developing a disconcerting resilience to freezing.

Finally, he decided on a middle-ground.

_"Icicle Lance!"_  Raising a hand over his head, he grasped the spear of magically-created frozen water that coalesced over his head, pulled back and hurled like a javelin directly at the dark-haired swordswoman.  Then, he turned back to Emilio and began to gather more power within his hands.

Suddenly he blinked, as something went decisively wrong.  He hadn't even begun to shape a spell, and yet the floor beneath was beginning to take on a faint fuschia glow.  Immediately breaking off the spell, he turned back to face Ell and Lhynn, who had both put their own fight on hold to look around in bewilderment.

"Wasn't me," he said immediately as both pairs of eyes turned to him.  Then the two women promptly skittered away from the dead center of the room, in which the glow was beginning to grow stronger in a perfect concentric circle, with a low hum that could be felt in the very bones.

It ended in a flash and an explosion of sound, and then the light was gone--and in its place, in the very center of the room, was something decisively startling.


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

"Hiii!!" gushed a cavity-inducing voice in a more cheerful manner than anyone had a right to in a place without sun and clouds and happy forest creatures.  Aric gawked, Ellisia gawked, Lhynn seemed vaguely disconcerted and Emilio remained weary-looking.  Emilio still being frozen might have had something to do with that.

For in the very center of the room was the strangest pair Aric had ever seen.  Standing at least eight feet in height was a Golem, but a golem unlike any Aric had ever heard of.  It was made of a sleek, polished black stone, and seemed arranged in segments so that it almost appeared a great suit of stone armor, with jagged blade-like edges at the joints.  It even had a massive stone sword that rested point-down on the stone floor next to it, its fingers splayed along the crossbars to hold it upright.  Within the visor-gap of the helmet-like head setting were two glowing red points of light, disconcertingly like eyes.  The whole affair gave off the sense of a massive black knight, something only Shabranigdo Himself would dream to ravage humanity.

And upon the shoulder of this massive, towering _thing_ of wicked edges and light-absorbing black stone...sat a girl, perhaps between thirteen and fifteen years of age.  Long pink hair, blue eyes, a sorceress' costume that would have looked more appropriate on a risqué tavern dancer than a self-respecting adventuress (but then, that was something of a contradiction in terms these days, as most sorceresses seemed to favor a "less is more" theory in costumes; to be honest, Aric didn't have a _real_ problem with that philosophy).  What she wore seemed to consist mostly of a single white length of cloth, draped around herself in manners just enough to provide minimalist modesty, and held in place with narrow golden filigree vaguely patterned after climbing ivy-vines.

The second thing that caught the eyes of the erstwhile adversaries surrounding these interlopers was that in the Golem's left arm, cradled like an unconscious person...was a suit of full plate-and-chainmail, in varying hues of blue with golden tracery.

"That must be the Armor!" Aric blurted, first to recover his mental feet as he pointed to the suit in question.

"Thaat's right!" the girl atop the golem singsonged, beaming cheerily.  "And it's all mine mine mine!  Oh!  Oh, but I'm being so ruuude!  My name's Kaia and this is Onyx!"  She patted the golem's unresponsive black helm, her hand running affectionately over the single curved prong that sloped backward from the top of its head.  "It was nice meeting all of you, but we have to go now!  Bye-bye!"

And with that, the golem began to move at an impressive clip, nowhere near as sluggish as the ones he had seen before, using its titantic sword as a kind of walking-stick.  It was about this time that the three managed to get their facilities together--and Ellisia was the one to recover first.

"I think not, little girl!  We came a long way for that armor and I will not let it be snatched away by some pink-haired little human tart!" Slinging her hammer back into her belt, she charged a few steps until she came past Aric himself, and then raised both hands over her head.  _"Elmekia Lance!"_  Power exploded between her upraised hands, a flare of blue-green light brimming with spiritual power, and then launched itself in the form of a fiery blue-green spear at the back of the girl on the golem's shoulder.

It impacted against a raised hand of black stone, and the girl spun around in her seat to glare cutely at Ell with her fists on her hips.  "That was mean!  What did I ever do to you?  I was here first so the treasure's mine!  It's not my fault you old people showed up too late!"

"_Old people?!_"  Ell looked ready to explode, as Aric lifted a hand to his temple to sigh.  He exchanged a long-suffering glance with Lhynn, who surprisingly returned it in kind as she walked casually over to Emilio while the girl was distracted.  She jerked her head toward Emilio, and then gave Aric a conspiratorial wink, and he nodded and turned his attention to the girl.

"How about we try and work something out, ah, Kaia?" he asked, loudly, stealing the attention of both arguing females who were just in the process of glaring sizzling lightning-bolts at each other.  "Some sort of mutually beneficial arrangement?  There's no need for anybody to walk away the loser, here."

Ellisia shot him a "you stay out of this" look, which he promptly ignored, while Kaia crossed her arms stubbornly.  "Nuh-uh!  I don't trust you people!  You just wanna take my treasure I worked sooo hard for!"

"Hey, now, you're not the only one who worked hard," Aric continued reasonably, slowly side-stepping to put as much distance between Kaia's gaze and Lhynn's attempts to free Emilio as possible.  "Everybody here has put a lot of work into finding this stuff.  Why don't we all head to town together and try to sell it off, split the money evenly."

"Welllll..."  Kaia raised a finger to her chin in cute consideration, her eyes rolling toward the ceiling as she thought.  Then, though, she shook her head again, crossing her arms under a chest that hinted at someday becoming epic.  "No, no, no!  It's mine, and I found it first and you can't have any of it!  _Vol Ga Dooga!_"  She flung her hands forward, fingers curled like claws, as tendrils of yellow light snaked from the tips.  Where they struck the stone floor, they burned marks into the surface, slowly searing the image of a five-pointed star, a pentagram, into the floor.  When the symbol was complete it flared up with more yellow light, in a blinding flash, and when it cleared there stood a great black hound about the size of a calf, all snarling teeth and bristling ebony fur.

"Get 'em, Blacky!" Kaia proclaimed haughtily, then turned her golem back around and proceeded to march back outside as the creature blocked their path.

"What is _that_?!" Ellisia blurted, hastily backing away with wide eyes, her hammer held ready.  Lhynn, to her own great frustration, still hadn't managed to liberate Emilio; Aric must have made that spell stronger than he thought.

"It's a garm," Aric responded, familiar with the spell, as he gathered sparkling blue magic power between his cupped hands.  "I've never seen one before, and I've never been very interested in summoning spells, but I've heard about them.  You know why nobody ever goes between Elmekia and the Desert of Destruction?"

"No."

"Because of these."

"Oh."

As near as he could figure, it looked like Lhynn and Emilio weren't going to be much for participation in this fight.  That was okay; he'd taken on tougher things than a garm before--he hoped, anyway.  And that had been even without Ell's help.  He glanced toward her from the corner of his eye, gave a slight nod which she returned...and then dove off to the left, as she veered right, hurling the power between his hands.  _"Freeze Arrow!"_  The beast opened its mouth, as the small cluster of frigid projectiles hurtled its way...and a blast of blue-tinted flame erupted from its mouth, melting and even evaporating them out of midair.

"What?!"  Ellisia stumbled and lurched to a stop, eyes wide.

"Oh yeah, I forgot..." Aric muttered, frustrated and no small amount unnerved.  "Garms breathe fire."

"Wonderful..."  Ell sighed, grip tightening on the handle of her hammer, "I don't suppose you have any _good_ news for me?"

"Less talk, more fight!" Aric shot back, even as he staggered back away from another blast of blue-hot flame.

"Right!  Bram _Blazer!_"  The blue beam of energy, about the diameter of Ell's fist, slammed into the garm's exposed side with the sound of a muffled hammer blow, sending it staggering to the side before turning its head to snarl at her.

Smirking, Aric slowly shook his head.  "Sad.  Girl should have known better than to summon some dumb animal.  _Freeze Brid!_"

Aric blinked to see the globe of sparkling blue light fly right past the garm's backside as it bounded forward, hurtling straight at a wide-eyed Ellisia.  She managed to duck in time, but only just barely, and her hair was lightly frosted as she rolled to one knee.

The garm hit the nearest wall with all four feet, the great claws actually gouging the ancient stone as it pushed off to pounce at a wide-eyed Aric.  The front paws landed squarely on his shoulders, as the thing's massive weight bowled him over flat onto his back.  Frantically, his hands shot up to force back the snapping head, one hand at the throat and the other tugging at a long, shaggy-furred ear.  Belatedly, he realized that would do little good when the monster decided to cook him with its breath, but instinct urged him to provide what little self-defense he could at the moment.

"Aric!"  It was Ellisia's voice, and the sound of her boots drawing nearer.  He flinched, even as the garm turned its head toward her, and he tried to force its head away before it could roast her...but it was simply too strong, the corded muscles in its neck far greater than his poor leverage could hold any power over, and Aric forced himself to look away as it blasted the full force of its deadly breath at her.

Inwardly, Aric railed.  She may have been snooty and stuck-up and downright pushy, but she didn't deserve...

Suddenly the weight upon him was gone, with the sound of flesh hitting a stone wall and a yelp.  Eyes snapping open, Aric turned to look as he felt himself being lifted up by the collar...

...and came face to face with light golden scales.  "Wh--?!"

She flashed him a small, wan half-smile, golden lips and eyelids and pointed ears among the only parts of her face not covered with fine gilded scales, and a hand with golden claws poking out of the tips of torn gloves rose to brush wisps of shimmering golden hair out of her eye.  "Heh...surprise, I guess," she murmured, and then the steely grip on his collar shifted to his shoulder and he felt himself being hauled along.

Ellisia dove with him behind the frozen Emilio, Lhynn following rapidly behind, just in time to let it shield them from another blast of garm breath.  When the heat passed, the ice was gone--leaving only a lightly charred and smoking Emilio, coughing up small clouds of smoke and looking generally bewildered.  Lhynn reached up to snag the platinum-haired sorcerer's collar and drag him down, even as all four flattened themselves to the floor to barely avoid another flare.

Ell was up and moving first, and Aric watched with wide eyes.  Her once fine clothes were both faintly charred and badly torn, her cape and hammer discarded on the stone floor, boots burst apart and lying in pieces on the floor.  The back of her shirt had been sheared open, making way for her grand, sweeping golden-sailed wings to unfurl from her back; a hole had been rent in the back of her trousers, just about at the base of her spine, for a sinuous golden-scaled tail to snake out.  Her sleeves were gone, perhaps burnt away judging from the charred edges, revealing startlingly toned arms.

Aric wasn't the only one baffled by this change; Emilio too stared in silent shock, trying to assimilate this strange twist of events, while Lhynn merely watched in stoic silence.  Aric tried to rise and rejoin the fray, but Lhynn snagged his shoulder to drag him back down, and when he stared at her incredulously she just shook her head and went back to watching.  Frowning, Aric watched as well, shifting anxiously.

But Ellisia was quite clearly a force to be reckoned with, now.  She used no magic as she advanced on the garm, diving this way and that to avoid its fiery breath until finally closing...and laying into it like a wild animal, tearing with claws and slinging it this way and that whenever she could get a grip.  This Ellisia was a far cry from the prissy golden-haired Lady with whom he had become familiar.

Before she was done, Aric had to turn his gaze away, but thankfully by the time she was done, the garm was quite thoroughly dead.  In fact, there wasn't even enough left to be recognizable as a garm, and he was careful to avert his eyes from the corpse and instead keep them focus on a rather blood-spattered Ellisia as she approached, still sporting golden scales and damaged clothing.  She stopped before the three, and shifted her weight a little awkwardly from foot to foot, tail pushing loose pebbles about on the stone floor as it lashed anxiously behind her.

"...Ell?" Aric asked, at last, just for posterity's sake.

"...yeah."  She said nothing further, made no effort to elaborate nor excuse this sudden transformation, just folded her wings against her back and stood in silence.

"...thanks," he answered in the same tone, nodding.  Then, taking a deep breath, he stepped closer and crossed his arms, speaking in tones for her ears only.  "But you and I are gonna have a long sit-down-and-talk once we get outta here."  He actually smirked, which caused her to blink and then mimic the expression, before he turned back around to face the other two.  "Alright, Emilio.  Situation's changed.  You can save the story stuff for later, because the longer we delay, the further away that little thief gets with our treasure.  So how about you fork over that coin and--"

"A_hahahahahahahaha!_" Emilio retorted, rising to his feet and crossing his arms imperiously.  "You think I'm going to fall for this little diversion of yours, Winterbourne?  I think not!  I shall pursue your lackey and recover the Artifact you so guilefully snatched away by underhanded cunning!  If you are fortunate, I _may_ deign to inform you of the location of the third and final piece, once I've found the rest, but if you continue this pattern of trickery then I fear I shall have to cease being sportsmanlike.  Come, Lhynn!"  With that, he turned and swept toward the stairs--an impressive feat, since "sweeping" was usually a method of travel reserved for those with capes.

Lhynn merely glanced at Aric and Ellisia for a moment, then slowly turned without a word and moved to follow her companion, sword at hand as ever.

"He's so weird..." Aric muttered under his breath, tiredly.  "Come on, Ell, let's get back upstairs and figure out where we're going next."

By the time he turned back to face her, Ellisia had reverted to normal, though her clothing was still a total loss.  As she kneeled to pick up her hammer, he retrieved her cloak and carefully draped it around her shoulders to preserve her modesty.  Blinking up at him, she nodded a little with a small hint of a smile, and then pushed to her feet to sweep _properly_ out through the double-doors, Aric following in turn.

"So let me get this straight," Aric reasoned in quiet tones, propping his feet up on the table in the secluded corner-booth of the tavern-and-inn they had finally settled on.  They had decided to postpone discussions until they could find someplace to sit down, eat and relax, since there had been no trace of either Emilio or Kaia outside the tower.  "Your mother was a Gold Dragon shifted down into human form, but your father was a human ex-dragonslayer.  So you're only half-Dragon, meaning the closest you can come to dragon-form is what you did with the garm.  Am I clear up to this point?"

She nodded, still pensively silent, not her usual self.

"Okay.  Makes sense so far.  Can only maintain the form for so long and can't use any magic while you do, right?"  Nod.  "Right.  Okay.  So what's all this about, with the armor and artifacts and whatnot?"

Ellisia sighed, fingering the sleeve of her new shirt.  It wasn't as fancy as the last one, because they had yet to score a significant treasure or any other form of income, but it at least matched the rest of her repaired clothing.  Aric, too, had managed to replace his lost goods with a new, pristine white mantle.  "I don't know what's going on any more than you do, not with these Artifacts Emilio seems so keen on.  I just thought the Armor he was talking about might be something I've been...looking for, for a long time."

He frowned, leaning forward and propping his elbows onto the table.  "Ell, I think it's time you squared with me.  I want to know what I'm getting into before I get my head chewed off by a garm for real next time."

She actually flinched at that, almost imperceptibly, and then nodded.  "All right.  Have you ever heard of the Clare Bible?"

"'Have I ever heard of--'?"  He laughed, sharply, then caught himself after a few glances were leveled his way and lowered his tone again.  "What self-respecting sorcerer hasn't heard of the most significant piece of magical lore since the Articulated Talking Shabranigdo Doll of Lei Magnus?"

"Since the _what?!_" Ell blurted, then hunched her head down between her shoulders as more stares were drawn.

"Just continue."

"...right.  Well, written in the Clare Bible is the method for making a special kind of Chimera, a half-living suit of armor called the Zenafa Armor.  Did you ever hear of the Zanaffar Incident in Sairaag?"

"Where Lina Inverse blew the hell out of the magical demon-beast that totaled the city?!"  Aric could barely contain his excitement, though he still kept his voice in a hushed whisper.  "I only wish I could've been there to see the fireworks!"

"...right," Ell echoed again, looking at him oddly.  "Well, Zanaffar was initially the result of a failed attempt to create Zenafa Armor from a copy of the manuscript.  That's why it had to join with a human body to have a tangible presence."

"Okay..." he nodded slowly, taking this in, and then frowned.  "Now what's this got to do with anything?"

Ellisia sighed, folding her own arms upon the table.  "Zenafa Armor possesses very strong anti-Mazoku properties, but nobody's been able to properly create a suit of it in centuries.  But we know they _have_ been made in the past, otherwise it wouldn't be _in_ the Clare Bible at all.  If I could find a suit, a real set of Zenafa Armor in pristine condition--something no full Gold Dragon has ever managed to do, might I add--then maybe it could be studied to find out what's being done wrong!  Think about it, Aric!"

_And earn yourself a tidy bit of acclaim and respect, as well,_ Aric did not add out loud.  Instead, he said, "Okay, I think I follow.  And you think the Armor that Kaia took might be it?"

She shook her head.  "No, I'm sure I'd know if it I saw it.  But it may be linked.  Think about it.  Pieces of a magical Artifact set, sealed in ruins blocked off from the Astral plane, so that no Mazoku can go and retrieve them...I could be getting close, Aric.  This could be the way!"

"But we're at a roadblock now," he derailed her train before it could take her onward to visions of glory and away from the present and the hard facts.  "Emilio's got one piece, and this strange summoner girl has the second.  We're still left with nothing but a vague glimmer, and names, and no way to track down either person nor the puzzle-pieces they possess.  Ugh, I should have choked the whole story out of Emilio while I had the chance.  Then at least we'd know what the last Artifact is."

"...it's a staff," Ellisia said quietly.  Aric looked up at her sharply, but her dark eyes were focused on the table between them.  He said nothing, simply staring at her expectantly, and when she realized this she took a deep breath and let out a sigh.  "'The Ritual of Unsealing requires that three pieces be united: the Token, the Armor and the Staff'.  That's what the front side of the coin said.  I lied because I wanted to see if you could read it."

"Wanted to make sure I wasn't going to run off and snatch it up for myself, first?" he hazarded.  She nodded, a touch guiltily.  "I guess I can't begrudge you that.  But right now you and I are in the same boat.  I'm not going to let that idiot Emilio make a monkey out of me, nor am I going to get shown up by some little punk kid."  There was also the fact that he still had Galamoth's bargain to consider, and he could only uphold that by keeping track of Ell...but even that was beginning to worry him.  A Mazoku couldn't have any good reason for wanting him to keep an eye on a Gold Dragon, even if she was only half-Dragon.  Especially not if she was seeking a powerful anti-Mazoku tool.

The Mazoku _had_ made contact with him, after a fashion, on their way from the tower to this little village.  The trip had taken a nice, appropriate three days, and on the second night he had awakened to what he thought was an empty, darkened camp-sight...until he realized that Ellisia was nowhere in sight.  It hadn't taken much for his sharpened instincts to detect that it had been a dream--at least, not when the Mazoku startled him out of trying to poke the unresponsive campfire back to life and told him as much.  Unfortunately, even in dream-state, the Galamoth was damnably vague and uninformative: he had only informed Aric to remain close to Ellisia and continue seeking the Artifacts, and that they would lead him to his due and their mutual goal.

As a sorcerer, Aric knew when to dismiss nighttime visions as dreams and when to take them seriously.  Sorcerers dreamed much the same as any non-magical humans, of things like flying armadillos and bats swimming through cheese sauce with little snorkels on their heads.  Even the more detailed dreams they had difficulty remembering, much the same as anyone else.  Anytime a sorcerer could remember a dream, especially one so specific, with the same perfect clarity as any other memory, it was generally something worth taking seriously.

Jerking himself back to the present before Ell could begin to stare, he cleared his throat and continued.  "Anyway, even knowing that, we still don't know _how_ to find this staff.  All we can really be sure of is that Emilio will be after it as soon as he gets the armor back from Kaia.  But we don't even know if Kaia is aware of any of that or not."

"To be on the safe side we'll have to assume she does," Ell said with a frown, settling back in her chair and frowning thoughtfully.  "The choice before us is either to continue pursuing or start looking for the last piece ourselves."

"I'm for chasing down that punk Emilio anyday," Aric said immediately, but Ell shook her head with a frown.

"Aric, if we just chase after them, odds are we'll just be following them to the third piece and arrive just in time to see them take it.  What we need to do is try and get the next piece ahead of them.  Then they'll _have_ to come to us and that will be our chance to take it."

"Just like we took the coin--er, _Token_ from Emilio the other day?" Aric asked cuttingly.  "And I suppose we'll defend the Staff the same way we kept Emilio from taking the Token right out from under our noses?"

Ell frowned, actually winced, and Aric realized that may have been a little too sharp.  "Sorry.  I'm just frustrated.  We don't even know where to start looking, Ell.  Clues to ancient mystical artifacts don't just fall out of the damn sky, you know."

With a resounding, splintering _crunch_, a rock dropped in through the roof over their heads and plopped onto their table, sawdust and wood splinters showering down along with a shaft of sunlight...that illuminated a piece of parchment tied to the rock in question.  Aric looked up, looked down, then looked up again.  "...beautiful, willing, rich and available young women don't just fall out of the damn sky, you know!"

Nothing happened.  Well, Ellisia whacked him out of his chair with her hammer.  But nothing else happened.

When he dragged himself, groaning, back up to his chair, Ellisia had already unwrapped the parchment and was perusing the note.  Frowning, she passed it over to him, and he examined the scrawl with some trepidation.

_Ahahahahahahahaha!  Beaten again, Winterbourne!  Sending your hapless flunky to Atlass City for the Staff while you languish here in Obscurity was a cunning ploy, but Emilio Van Strahd shall not be deceived by such an elementary ploy!  You underestimate your foes at every turn, Winterbourne, and such arrogance has finally come back to bite you in the bum!  ...Bum isn't a very dramatic word, is it?  IS there an appropriate term for one's backside with suitable flair that does not come off sounding vulgar?  ...well, no matter; time to wrap this up before I begin to ramble.  Again, your foolish attempts to throw Emilio Van Strahd off your trail have failed miserably, etc. etc. etc., and so on and so forth._

_Sincerely,_

_Anonymous_

_P. S.   Ahahahahahahahaha!_

Silence hung heavily over the table like a...heavy, silent, hanging thing.  Then...

"Does he really _count_ how many 'ha's' are in his laugh?"  Ellisia asked, a bead of sweat rolling down her temple.  Aric fell out of his chair this time, needing no propulsion assistance from Ell's hammer.


	6. Chapter Six

_{Ye Olde Lengthy Author's Note:  Sorry it's been so long since the last update. n.n()  It's been hard to find time to sit down and get these prepped for FF.Net, and I've been writing all the while…to save reading time for people, work for me, and prevent myself from posting a whole ton of stuff that isn't going to go over well, I'm going to post chapters in short bursts (say, 3 at a time) even though I'm up to…I think chap. 12 is in the works now.  Thanks to all the people who encouraged and, even better, offered constructive criticism.  'The Shadows', your review was duly noted during my work, and I hope the chapters that follow will help a little in fleshing out what I failed to before now.  If they don't, then please don't hesitate to tell me so as before.  Any suggestions and advice that will help me improve my writing are welcome—aside from the fun, practice and improvement is half the reason I do fanfiction.   Additionally, I would like it to be known that chapters 7 and 8 are…well, frankly, I'm none too pleased with how they turned out, before anyone else can tell me so.  But no matter how I tried to work it I couldn't think of how else to do them without harming the story continuity as a whole.  If I ever come up with a way that will remain in keeping with the plot, you will likely see those two chapters replaced.  As it is, if they seem…sub-par compared to the rest, please take it with a grain of salt, and here's hoping the ones that follow will make up for the lapse.  In keeping with that, I'm going to post four chapters this time, as not to end on what I perceive to be a "bad note".  Thanks again for all the support n.n Please, enjoy the show.}_

Chapter Six

Obscurity was not a particularly prosperous town, being far away from any noteworthy trading routes, fishing locales, mines, hunting-grounds or flashy hot spring resorts.  Even bandits avoided the town like the plague, afraid that the nature of its name would affect their reputations as well.  Thus it was with little regret that Aric and Ellisia passed the sign on the city limits which read "Welcome to Obscurity.  Population: Dwindling".

Ell had resolutely refused to drop the money for horses, which Aric felt to be pure folly considering the need for haste, but thankfully Atlass City wasn't too far away--in fact, it was just close enough to totally obscure Obscurity, perhaps contributing to the town's lackluster name and lack of appearance on even maps produced by its own cartographers.

"I still don't like this," Aric muttered under his breath, crumpling the note up after reading it one last time and tossing it over his shoulder, sniping it out of the air with a tiny burst of fire magic.  "We could be walking right into a trap."

"Please, Aric," Ellisia said, slowly shaking her head and waving over her shoulder as though to dispel his concerns like smoke.  "We know where all three Artifacts are going to be now.  What could _possibly_ go wrong?"

"So...tell me exactly why we're all here, again?"  Gourry Gabriev was, as ever, the one to invite convenient plot exposition.

Lina sighed, clenching her fists, resisting mightily through superhuman effort of will the urge to smack him silly with a slipper.  While she took a deep breath and counted backward from ten, resident level-headed, cool-tempered chick-magnet (for, after all, what young lass could resist the lure of rocky blue-gray skin and hair that could be used to pin up posters?) Zelgadis Graywords took it upon himself to fill in the blanks...again.

"All right," he said, slowly crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall next to the inn-room's closet door.  "From the top.  As far as we know, _someone_ has unearthed a set of magical artifacts that bestow incredible power to anyone who gains possession of all three."

"We have to collect 'em before they're all snatched up by some greedy psychopathic villain!" Amelia piped in, raising her hand and bouncing in her chair like an eager Sorcerer's Guild student.

Zel paused a moment to make certain she was done before continuing.  "And while we're gathering them up anyway, Lina is going to allow me to try and use them to change my body back to normal."  Quite pointedly, he peered at the diminutive, red-headed sorceress from the corner of his eye.  "Isn't that right?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure thing, Zel," Lina tossed offhandedly, folding her hands behind her head and not bothering to stifle a yawn.  The chimera continued regardless.

"Of course, this is all due to a very _questionable_ source of information."

"Xellos has never _completely_ screwed us over, Zel," Lina protested, frowning, suddenly part of the conversation proper.  "And his information is usually good."

"But most of that good goes to him.  Regardless…"  Lifting his gaze from the floorboards, he frowned slightly.  "Of course, the most he would tell us was that all three of the Artifacts would be moving here into Atlass City sometime within the week.  Naturally everything else--such as, for instance, names or descriptions of these people carrying them--is all a big secret.  You following any of this, Gourry?"

The swordsman lifted a hand to his chin, settling his elbow onto the other palm, and sat in deep, contemplative thought.  Then, he nodded sharply with a bright, broad grin.  "Nope."

"Terrific, Gourry.  Glad to see you are still nothing if not consistent."

"'What could possibly go wrong?'" Aric mimicked, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms, defying Ellisia to argue him.  "Try a militia blockade, goldenrod.  This'll take _hours_ to get through.  Hours we don't have, by the way; we wasted enough _walking_ here."

Ellisia sighed, clenching her fists, resisted mightily through a superhuman will the urge to whack him silly with her hammer.  As she took a deep breath and slowly counted backward from ten, Aric turned to look at the sturdy city walls, lined with archers and sorcerers just itching for an excuse to snipe something out of the air…and at the battalion standing to either side of the fortified gates.  …this was going to take some doing.

"I don't understand what they could be doing here, anyway," Ell mused once she had gotten her temper under control, rubbing her chin in thought.  "No wars going on in this region that I'm aware of--and I'd think we'd have noticed by now."

"They're searching people, too," Aric pointed out, gesturing to the none-too-tidy ransacking of a passing hay-wagon.  "So much for that old trick."

"Unless..." Ellisia murmured thoughtfully, tapping her lower lip with a finger.

Aric suddenly had a sinking feeling.

"This is _never_ going to work," Aric protested yet again, pulling the recently acquired broad-brimmed hat down over his rather distinctive eyes, though the action was mostly to hide his embarrassment as best he could.  This hair-brained scheme was like something _Emilio_ would have come up with.

It wasn't so much that he objected to the ethics of Ellisia's tactics, "persuading" a passing hay-merchant on the road to let them "borrow" his cart.  Even great adventurers sometimes had to resort to petty thievery from time to time--that didn't put them in the same lot as bandits.

Rather, it was simply the sheer absurdity of the supposed "disguises".  A wide-brimmed and ludicrously plumed brown hat for him, along with a heavy leather mantle over his usual white cloak to match it; and for Ellisia, a similar leather mantle over her cape with a hood specially designed for maximum "shady features" effect.  They couldn't look more suspicious if they'd painted the words "Heavily Armed Foreign Spies" on the side of the wagon in bright, vibrant colors.

"Tell me again just exactly how this is supposed to get us through faster?" he asked, frowning skeptically as he leaned toward her to speak in hushed tones.

She whispered the plan back at him again.  It sounded even less likely to succeed the second time, but he knew better than to argue by this point and instead resolved himself to probably blasting their way through and bringing the whole city militia down on their heads.

And as they rolled up to the checkpoint in the gateway, Ellisia wasted no time.  As soon as the words "State your business" were out of the gruff head guardsman's mouth, she tottered woozily, then wobbled right down off her perch--and _not_ into a waiting guardsman's arms, as initially planned, which meant crashing face-down right into the cold, unforgiving cobblestones.

"What's the matter with you?!" Aric snapped at the guardsman, trying to use this new angle without breaking character and simultaneously cutting off Ellisia's similar remark that _would_ have given the ruse away.  "Don't you know you're supposed to catch a fainting girl?!"  The man hastened to scoop up the fallen Ell, and Aric hastily lifted a hand to cover her mouth and stifle her protests.  "Now quickly, give her here so I can get her to a White Sorcerer!"  He tried to tug her out of the larger man's arms, but the guardsman didn't release her.

"Now, now, son, calm down," the broad-shouldered, bristly-black-bearded man placated,  "We know the city quite well and we can take her to someone who can help while you answer a few questions.  We'll take you right to her as soon as everything's settled up."

This wasn't good.  _She_ probably wouldn't have any objection to getting into the city and leaving him to stall the guards, but Aric wasn't eager to deal with that kind of hassle.  He thought fast.

"Now look here, you!  How dare you manhandle my wife like that?!" he blurted, taking an aggressive step forward and lifting a fist, immediately abandoning Ellisia's "sister" idea for obvious reasons.  She surreptitiously stretched out a foot and dug her heel into his toes, but he restrained his cry of pain with heroic effort.  "I oughtta report you to your superior officer!  Now hand her over or I'll have your stripes!"

Surprisingly, the guard actually panicked, hastily shoving Ell into Aric's arms, rather without the appropriate care one might normally attribute to a swooned lady.  Aric didn't stop to question good fortune, and with a final warning glare from beneath the brim of his hat, he stormed off into the city, followed the street a suitable distance and rounded a corner--

at which point Ellisia promptly vaulted out of his arms, landed squarely on his foot and drove an elbow into his face.  "What's the big idea calling me your _wife_?!" she snapped as he clapped hands to his abused face and hopped around on one foot.  "That wasn't the story we agreed on!"

"_We_ never agreed on any story!" he retorted, muffled from behind one glove as he let the other hand fall, sorely rubbing his cheek.  "_You_ did.  Besides, even those idiots would never have believed you were my _sister!_  Your hair isn't exactly getting any bluer, you know!"

Ell crossed her arms and turned away with an indignant huff.  Aric snorted disdainfully and turned away himself, one fist moving to his hip as the other hand dropped.  "Hmph..."

"...'least we're inside," Ellisia broke the silence first, glancing tentatively over her shoulder.  "I guess that wasn't too bad."

"I suppose," he replied, offering a tentative truce without outright saying so.  "Let's get going, eh?"

"Sure," she accepted.

Hooded mantles and absurd-looking hat were discarded promptly, not to be missed by one Aric Winterbourne in particular, and they began their investigation without incident.  Well, save for one minor incident.

"Were those really even necessary?" he asked, as they were placing the lid back onto the oaken Waste Depository Bin (courtesy of the Philionel El Di Seyrune Department of Righteous Cleanliness™) into which they had dropped the offending articles.

"Well, no, I suppose," Ellisia admitted, tapping a thoughtful finger to her chin.  Then she smirked.  "Though you did look some kind of funny with that ridiculous hat on."

That earned her a trickle of magical ice down the collar, which in turn earned him a hammer-blow to the noggin.  _Then_ their investigation began without incident.

It was a difficult, roundabout sort of investigation, because they couldn't very well go around asking "Have you seen an ancient mystical relic just lying around town recently?", and their priority was in finding the Staff before Emilio or Kaia, not finding either of those two themselves--yet.

For the most part, simple observation was their only recourse, with occasional question on such things as new museum exhibits, shrine artifacts or uncovered "natural treasures"--which would have been ever so problematic, Aric shuddered to contemplate.  He wasn't sure whether to be frustrated or relieved when none of the three turned up anything by the time the sun began its inexorable descent.

"This sucks," Aric grunted, pounding the bottom of a fist on the stone wall of the Atlass City Grand Library, and promptly cradling his offended appendage after the impact with the unyielding stonemasonship.  "I can't believe this.  Did Emilio play us for suckers?  That would be so embarrassing..."

"We didn't have anything else to rely on," Ell explained with a frown, crossing her arms and tossing her sun-kissed hair, which took the opportunity to catch every last one of the sun's waning rays and reflect them dazzlingly for a heartbeat.  "Besides, Atlass City is a big place--and there's still the underground, criminal element to interrogate."

"_You're_ suggesting we deal with local gangs and thugs?" he demanded to know.

"'Deal with'?"  She scoffed.  "Certainly not.  I said 'interrogate'."

"...right.  So instead you think we should _take on_ potentially the entire criminal element of Atlass City.  Are you _sure_ we've looked into every possible avenue?  I mean, what if--"

He trailed off when he realized Ellisia wasn't even paying him any attention, instead gazing blankly over his shoulder as if he had sprouted a third arm growing from his back and it were waving a little "Seyrune Rules!" flag.  He blinked slowly, snapped his fingers in front of her eyes...and then slowly, with a sinking feeling that was becoming distressingly familiar, he turned.

It was about the time he'd finished his about-face that he realized the muffled booms he'd been hearing for the last little while were not coming from the direction of the local Sorcerer's Guild branch.  At first, he could only see the great stone head and shoulders and the unmistakable patch of disgustingly cute pink hair, in the distance above the street, but as rapidly as the crowd was parting it didn't take long to recognize Kaia and her golem-steed Onyx, tromping through the street at a decent clip that hinted at more than a casual stroll through the streets, even for a golem.

"Well, at least today won't be a total loss," Aric said, brightening somewhat, already cracking his knuckles and shifting his feet apart as the pedestrians paused in winding their various ways home to let this unusual monstrosity pass in their direction.  "Ready, Ell?  I'll take on the girl and whatever she summons while you see if you can muscle the golem.  Good plan?"  Silence.  "Ell?"

Glancing over his shoulder, Aric fell over.  The half-Dragon wasn't even paying him any attention at all, standing with her arms crossed and a contemplative look on her face.  "She's moving awfully fast, nevermind having her golem out in the middle of a populated area.  Something's unusual."

There was a moment of silence, save for the rapidly encroaching footprints.

"And how _dare_ you send a fragile, innocent lady face to face with a hulking monstrous golem?!" _Wham!_  The hammer drove him a bit further into the paving stones, making a nice little Aric-shaped indentation.

Dragging himself out of his own personal hole in the ground, Aric grumbled something vulgar under his breath.  "Well, whatever it is, why don't we just--"

"Hi Mister Blue-hair and scary old lady!  Bye Mister Blue-hair and scary old lady!"  Just like that, Kaia and her golem were past them and gone, the Golem vaulting right over their heads with agility that was really out of place for stone--even animated stone.  The two shared a moment of stunned silence, before Ell broke out with a truly classic "After them!" and took off running.

Before Aric could move to join her, a fireball ruptured the ground under his feet, sending him tumbling forward and scorching the cobblestones where he had been standing.  Patting out the fire in his cape, he narrowed his ruby eyes and searched out the offender.

"A_hahahahahahahaha!_  So, come to delay my pursuit of your lackey, are you, Winterbourne?  We'll see about that.  Lhynn!  After them!"  Aric felt a breeze whoosh by along with a black, white and gray blur of motion.  He knew better than to try to pursue again, not with Emilio around.

"Alright, fine!" Aric blurted, shoving to his feet and glaring icy daggers of potential excruciating pain at the platinum-haired sorcerer tossing a fireball up and down further up the street.  "You want a fight, Van Strahd?  You've got one!  We're going to settle this now!"  If the man wanted dramatics in front of a crowd, he could have one--besides, Ell would have enough trouble dealing with both Kaia, her Golem _and_ Lhynn.  The last thing Aric could afford was to let Emilio butt in too.

"I'd hoped for nothing less!"  Vaulting further backward, Emilio cast his second fireball down, even as Aric began to sprint after him.  Diving forward and angled to one side, Aric managed to avoid the blast radius this time while still gaining some distance.  The last thing Aric really wanted was a fight in the middle of a town full of people, but Emilio was too caught up in the dramatics of the confrontation; a watching crowd suited his style just fine.

At least Emilio seemed to be levitating backward to an open area, Aric couldn't help but note as he continued to narrowly dodge Fireballs and Flare Arrows: the treasure-hunter was floating leisurely back to the City Square, which was thankfully not too far down Main Street from the Grand Library.  Upon reaching the square, Emilio lofted up to settle upon the shoulder of a glorified depiction of Prince Philionel (standing with one finger righteously upraised to the heavens, as was his noble mustachioed face, and his Mighty Boot planted upon the posterior of a defeated lesser-demon), slowly crossing his arms and looking down with an air of superiority.  This image was not helped by the fact that Aric, who had already been on his feet and searching all day without so much as a stop to sit and rest, had stumbled to a halt at the base of the statue with hands on his knees, panting for air.

Emilio actually let him catch his breath--somehow he figured he shouldn't be surprised--before slowly uncrossing his arms and beginning to gather power.

Aric recognized the feel of that gathering energy--it was the polar opposite of his own personal favorite Shamanistic spell.  Was Emilio _insane_?!  That spell could melt the whole City Square to slag, not to mention the statue he was standing on!

No, he wasn't insane.  He knew what he wanted Aric to do.  Emilio was nothing if not a crowd-pleaser, and he had a crowd to please.  Gritting his teeth, Aric drew his own hands back and began to draw in the countering power, pulling invisible, metaphorical strings of power and gathering them into a coiled knot between his hands.  Emilio wasn't chanting, and that meant he wasn't using the spell at full power.  If Aric chanted fast, he _might_ have a chance of overpowering it, but he couldn't afford to risk being an instant too late.

_"Burst Flare!"_

_"Vice Freeze!"_

The words were cried out in echoing unison as each sorcerer cast his hands at the other, releasing the magical power he had drawn together between them.  The globes of shimmering heat energy and sparkling cold light started out bigger than their casters' respective heads, and continued to grow in diameter as they flew, until when they met they were each larger than both men together.  The impact when they collided with midair was tremendous, akin to localized thunder, and when the light cleared a dense fog was left hanging in the air around the City Square, blinding both combatants and the eager audience.  Aric silently cursed Emilio's flair for melodrama--the fog was too thick to even contemplate trying to sneak away and pursue Lhynn, Ell and Kaia.  There was nothing to be done until it cleared, which had given Emilio ample time to draw his falchion and level it dramatically down at his foe.

"You're very good, Winterbourne," he stated grandly, his voice no doubt magically amplified.  "As talented as ever.  But so help me, before the watching eyes of Ceipheed and the Lord of Nightmares Herself, this day I shall defeat you at last!"

The crowd cheered, eating it up, and Emilio basked in his applause as Aric crossed his arms and rolled his eyes.  "Emilio, Lhynn and Ellisia are both chasing down the _real_ thief right now!  If you'd just shut up and _listen_ for five seconds--"

Ignoring him, Emilio continued as though never interrupted.  "However, you've been a worthy opponent, and so I give you this chance alone to repent for your misdeeds and divulge to me the destination to which your minion is fleeing with the Artifact, and I will spare you the humiliation of defeat before a crowd!"

"Y'know what?" Aric began faux-conversationally, his eyebrow twitching ominously.  Then his arms uncrossed and he took an aggressive step forward, balling a fist in front of him.  "Bite me!  You're not gonna listen to any answer but force, so force is what you're gonna get!"  There was a collective "Ooh...!" from the crowd, which Aric had to admit was faintly satisfying...but he shook his head sharply of such notions, berating himself for letting association with this blithering idiot corrupt him.  _"Freeze Brid!"_  He hurled the spherical blast of cold one-handed, the other already drawn back to gather more power in preparation.

This time, Emilio didn't use magic to protect himself--instead, he simply vaulted forward, the spell cascading against Prince Phil's stone head thankfully harmlessly; a simple layer of frost that would melt away in a day, the reason Aric favored Water Shamanism.  Turning toward where the other sorcerer landed (safely on his feet, thanks to a minor Levitation spell), Aric slowly crossed his arms again.

"So be it, Winterbourne," Emilio intoned gravely, "I will answer violence with violence and wring the answer to my questions out of you by force!"

Seeing that Emilio had landed in a patch of green grass, part of the City Square's park-like layout, gave Aric the glimmering of an idea, one he snatched at and ran with without pause for thought.

"Hey, look!  It's a creepy suspicious looking Cloaked Figure™ accosting a helpless little old lady!" he pointed beyond the other's shoulder, his expression artfully aghast.

Amazingly enough (though perhaps not so much so considering that it was, in fact, Emilio), it worked.  The platinum-haired sorcerer whirled, his sword ready to attend to this latest miscarriage of dramatic righteousness...and Aric allowed himself to grin and raise a hand slowly over his head.  ...he really didn't get to do this often enough.  _"Dill Brand!_"  Thrusting the palm down toward the ground, he watched it detonate skyward in a splendid explosion of force, sending even a few stray cobblestones skirting the circle of blasted earth skittering over the ground.

As Emilio went skyrocketing off into the distance until he was little more than a tiny speck in the sky (his platinum hair flashing in the sun with an appropriate little _ping_), Aric clenched a fist in front of him and turned with a swirl of his slightly charred but still white mantle.  "Anybody else wanna make my day?"

For the most part, the members of the audience who had neither lost interest, nor fled in terror of middling-to-high-caliber magic, simply gazed in varying degrees of amazement, anxiety and even a few in disinterest.  Then, slowly, they began to turn around and go about their daily lives again, not eager for whatever reason to mess with an irate sorcerer.  Thankfully, most of the eyes were off him when the flinch caught up with him, and he blinked in bafflement as he looked down at his formerly raised arm that had suddenly given out on him.  He frowned, to see a hole burnt in the sleeve like a slash-mark, and slightly-charred skin beneath--and not the only one of its kind, either, upon further inspection of his person.  Some of Emilio's spells must have come closer than he'd anticipated.

Embarrassingly enough, it was then that he got an unanticipated answer, in the form of a soft, melodious chiming sound that accompanied the ringing of metal (as from a staff or cane) upon the stones.  "I might be able to 'make' yours, Prestidigitator."

"Presti-who?  O-Oh, sorry!  Gesundheit!"

A bead of sweat rolled down the young woman's temple.


	7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Ellisia heard Emilio's unmistakable--not to mention annoying--laughter echoing behind her, but she didn't chance a look over her shoulder.  In spite of his faults, Aric was a competent enough sorcerer...and, she had to admit, almost a decent guy from time to time.  He would keep the sorcerer busy, she was sure, but she flinched when running boot-steps behind her alerted her to the presence of his pursuing bodyguard Lhynn.

Ellisia had always prided herself on being physically superior to most humans of her size, age and physique.  It was a fine compliment to her equally superior beauty, and charm, and generosity, and humbleness and...

...and Lhynn had just drawn level to her, sprinting side-by-side before slowing to match her pace, and the other woman looked hardly winded.  It wasn't an effortless pace, but it was one of remarkably _minimalist_ effort, which was unnerving in itself.  Ellisia glanced apprehensively toward the dark-haired swordswoman, expecting that eerie black blade to come to bear at any time...but Lhynn kept on running, her eyes focused steadfastly forward on the back of the retreating Golem.

_...well.  Maybe one of them _is_ sane after all,_ she thought, permitting herself a small smirk...and then nearly panicked when one of Lhynn's hands shot out to snag hold of her cape and jerk her aside.  Nearly losing her balance, Ell started to snap something when she caught a glimpse over her shoulder of the lamppost she had nearly run into with her eyes turned.  Mentally berating herself, she focused forward again, keeping their mutual foe in mind.

Ell had to admit, there _were_ times she almost began to wish she knew that ever so convenient Raywing spell, even as reckless and dangerous as it was; Levitation would be even slower than her running speed.  Perhaps she should have allowed Aric to handle the pursuit and stayed behind to deal with the blowhard, herself, but...Aric would have been squashed flat by the golem, if not something else Kaia summoned, and then the Armor would be lost once again.

Fortunately, while it may have been fast for a golem, Onyx was still no match for the speed of smaller, lighter, more nimble human-sized pursuers, and Ell and Lhynn were rapidly gaining.  The trick, though, was what to do when they _did_ catch up.  Ell wouldn't be able to get any leverage, at this speed, to bring her strength to ear...and Lhynn would probably just break her sword on its armored bulk.

It was quite a conundrum, but even as she pondered she felt Lhynn tugging lightly at her sleeve.  She glanced from the corner of her eye, careful to keep her attention partially fixed forward as well, and frowned to see Lhynn gesturing in the manner of giving a boost, hands cupped in front of her and lifting upward.  Ellisia frowned more, and mimicked the motion uncertainly...and Lhynn suddenly vaulted upward with startling agility for a human.

Though confused, Lhynn instinctively hauled up when she felt one wolf's-hide boot heel land in her clasped fingers, her inhuman strength sending the raven-haired swordswoman flying up and forward.  Even as Ell continued to run, she watched with wide eyes as Lhynn somersaulted through the air, uncurled with her sword drawn from its back-harness...but, instead of swinging it, caught her empty arm around the pink-haired girl's waist and tore her down from the golem's shoulder.  The two went tumbling over the paving-stones as the black golem stumbled to a perplexed stop, and when it turned with murder in its red glowing eye-lights the pedestrians gathered around thought it best to flee like hell.

Ellisia, herself, slowed to a stop with her hammer drawn, interposing herself between Onyx and the other two women.  " 'Fraid not, my very large friend.  You'll be dealing with me."  The stony monster seemed more than willing to oblige, hefting its massive stone sword, ready to crush her under its very weight.

Then, suddenly, it froze.  Ell blinked, watching as its glimmering eyes dimmed and seemed to shrink, almost like contracting human pupils.  They were focused over her head and beyond her, so she turned slowly to see...

...Lhynn, standing with Kaia in a headlock with her free arm, the black sword's edge lifted to the little pink-haired sorceress' chin and a hard, even merciless set to her glaring gray eyes.

Ellisia hesitated.  Hostage-taking wasn't...really her style.  And from the way the sword was pressing so hard that a tiny trickle of blood was running down Kaia's throat, Lhynn didn't look to be bluffing, nor to be the squeamish type.

Still, maybe Ell could play this off without anybody getting hurt.  Lhynn obviously wasn't about to say anything, or she would have by now, so Ell turned herself to face the golem.  "That's right, rocky one.  Now, set the Armor down nice and slow, and your mistress will come to no harm."  When the golem didn't react, Ellisia heard Kaia yelp as the blade pressed a little harder, and the half-Dragon hastily raised a hand to forestall Lhynn's eager hand.

"Onyx only listens to me!" Kaia snapped defiantly, once the black edge had been pulled back far enough to permit speech.  Then she glared cutely, the expression almost more like a pout save for the set of her large, blue eyes.  "You're mean!  We never hurt anybody!  Just leave us alone!"

Ell flinched, but Lhynn remained steadfast and Ellisia nerved herself.  "Listen, little girl.  We need that suit of armor for something very, very important.  If it's possible, we'll allow you to use it as you wish when we're done.  Now tell the golem to drop the armor."

Kaia sulked for a moment, remaining stubbornly defiant as only a young teenager can.  A subtle motion of Lhynn's sword was enough to make her gasp, and while Ell frowned in disapproval it _did_ merit the desired results.

"Put the magic armor down, Onyx," Kaia mumbled reluctantly, but in spite of her tone the golem obeyed immediately, setting the suit down on the stones with a series of muted clankings.

"Good.  Now banish the golem."

Kaia hesitated, before being prompted by another prod of black metal.  "Okay, okay!  Onyx, go wait outside the city until I come to meet you."

Inexplicably, the black knight-like golem actually seemed to melt into the stone below, disappearing into the cracks between the paving-stones.  Once it was completely gone, Ell slowly walked to heft up the fully-assembled suit of plate-and-chainmail, hefting it over her shoulder the way she would carry a human body, and with just as little effort.  Turning back to Kaia, she actually half-bowed.  Then, she stepped closer, as Kaia's eyes slowly grew wider at the subtle display of strength.  "Tell me, little girl...what did you want to use this armor for?"

Kaia gulped, visibly.  "I-I...I just wanted to try and make a g-golem with it..." she mumbled like a scolded child, trembling slightly under the double threats of sharp sword and female authority figure.  "I didn't mean any harm!  I just wanted to try a spell and I thought it would be b-better to work with armor that was already magic to start with!"

"Lhynn, let her go," Ellisia said with a small sigh.  The swordswoman held her weapon in place a moment longer, then somewhat roughly shoved Kaia to the paving-stones and leveled the weapon to point down at her.  Ell bent down in a more solicitous manner, pushing the blade aside with her free hand.  "Listen, little girl, playing with magic like that is dangerous.  You could get hurt and, even worse, you could unintentionally hurt _other_ people.  I know you didn't mean to, but it can happen anyway.  Now, we need this armor for something very, very important, something that might be able to help a lot of people.  Do you understand?"

Trying to edge away, scooting backward on her hands and rear, Kaia nodded numbly.  When Lhynn slowly slung her sword back over her shoulder, the girl recovered some of her gumption and stood back up.  "I understand!" Kaia replied in a more defiant tone.  "You're just a couple of greedy old thieves who want that armor all for yourself when I got to it first!  And I'm _not_ a little girl, I'm fifteen years old!"  While Ell and Lhynn were both blinking in bafflement, Kaia suddenly ran toward the nearest corner...and began shouting at the full (and very considerable) capacity of her ample lungs.  "Guards!  Guards!  Thieves!  I've been robbed!!"

Both women suddenly looked at each other, eyes wide.  At first, Lhynn made as though to rush the girl and silence her, but Ell stopped her with a hand to her arm and a shake of her head.  Instead, she pulled the dark-haired woman along with her, releasing her as she began to run back in the direction from whence they'd come.

And none too soon, it seemed, for she could already hear the clanking of armored feet tromping in hot pursuit along the paving-stones.  A _lot_ of armored feet...far more than seemed to be appropriate for such a small perceived-mugging.

"It _is_ the Armor!  Get them!!" she heard a gruff voice calling from behind, and Ell's eyes went wide an instant before she poured on an extra burst of speed.  This wasn't looking good...what was the Atlass City Militia looking for the Armor for?!

"Look, not to sound ungrateful or anything," Aric mumbled, shifting awkwardly on the park bench where he had been urged to sit, "but I really don't have the money on me to pay for this right now."

The young woman who had approached him didn't even look up from her work, her palms raised as her staff nestled in the crook of her arm, a globe of impossibly white, White Magic energy emerging from her hands and centered around the worst of the burns on his arm.  The residual effect spread through the rest of him with faint shimmers of white, as she sat with eyes closed.

This close, and with her attention otherwise occupied, her patient could get a good look at her. The exterior of her little cape, which modestly covered her backside, matched the rose-maroon color of her arm-sleeves and her over-dress. The gown peeking out through the mahogany leather lacing the front and back of the over-dress together was a flowing emerald-green and pooled on the ground. Her dainty feet were shod in sandals the same color as the lacing, with oval-shaped emerald closures just above her ankle. The interior of her cape, the ribbons attached to the gold-embellished cuffs of the arm-sleeves, and her belt--also gold-trimmed--were the same rich green. Of particular note was a tattoo, three triangles--each within the other, the middle one upside-down--on her right cheekbone. Her hair was a silvery shade of lavender, and cut closely to her head except for one slim braid, holding an emerald tucked behind her right ear. The staff in the crook of her arm was a work of art in itself, all red-stained ironwood with ivory ornamentation, the butt capped with some metal he couldn't readily identify.  At the head of it was a metal ring, from which dangled maroon ribbons surmounted by narrow, cylindrical little chimes or bells that sounded musically whenever she moved it. 

Opening her sky-blue eyes, the girl observed her work.  "I am a White Sorceress," she said simply with a small smile, after a nod of satisfaction.  Then the eyes lifted up to him.  "There's no need for something as selfish as recuperation, when there was a clear need for my talent."

"I think you mean remuneration," Aric replied nervously, glancing down to check the healing over himself.  Perhaps surprisingly enough, she seemed to know her trade.  Maybe the slip of the tongue was a fluke.  Nevertheless, he certainly wasn't going to argue free healing.

"That's what I said," she answered with an innocent blink.

"...right.  Anyway, thanks.  I guess I owe you, Miss, um..."  He waited, prompting silently.

"Von Dystrateven," she answered with a small bow from where she sat.  "Selaena von Dystrateven.  Such good works are the calling of those who practition White magic."

"It's practice."

"Like I said."

Aric felt a headache coming on...and not induced by Ell's repeated hammer assaults.

The sudden thought of that made him blink, and he surged instantly to his feet.  He had to find Ell!  But...  "Um, look, Miss--ah, Selaena, I'd love to stick around and chat compensation, but I've really gotta run--"

He trailed off as he looked in the direction in which Ell had disappeared, perking toward the sound of faint commotion.  As it grew louder, he felt his eyes going wide, recognition slowly coming to him.

In the very lead was a stunningly beautiful young woman, long flowing golden hair and big dark eyes that would have been lovely if they hadn't been wide with panic, toned legs carrying her at speeds no bipedal creature was meant to achieve as she inconceivably managed to lug a full set of plate-and-chainmail slung over one shoulder like a body.

Just slightly behind her and to one side was a second woman, not quite as remarkable though still darkly attractive, with black tresses trailing in her wake like a cape. While the first woman wore clothing that looked like a wealthy person's first attempt at buying adventure-wear, this one was attired simply in a gray-furred wolf's-hide tunic that covered her from collar to mid-thighs, snugged in place at her waist by a wolf's-pelt belt as wolf's-pelt boots clopped loudly over the cobblestones. Most noteworthy, though, was the great black sword etched with scarlet runes, slung currently over her back.

And behind the clearly recognizable Ellisia and Lhynn...pursued what seemed to be at least _half_ the running Atlass City militia, weapons drawn and fanatical-death-in-the-name-of-justice in their eyes. Spying the two standing in the middle of the square, the blonde waved energetically while the black-haired woman continued to run with admirable singleness of purpose...but worse yet was the man at the head of the wall of steel blades and armor.

"Look! That girl has the Staff too! Get them all! First man to bring me all three Artifacts gets triple salary for a year!"

Eyes suddenly wide in alarm, Aric turned to look at the girl behind him, then at the rushing wall of military might...and then came to a snap decision. "Time to leave!" Snagging hold of the lavender-haired-girl's upper arm, he turned sharply on a heel and began to bolt, just in time to fall in line next to the other two women.

"Wha--!" was all the girl had time to utter before she was literally yanked from her seat and off her feet.  Recovering them posthaste, she fell into step with the others, surprisingly so considering her dress.  Aric didn't have time to ponder the mechanics of that, for even as the sorceress reoriented herself, she panted out, "Wh-where, are...we going?"

"Out of town would be my guess!" Aric shot back, "But at this rate, we'll be followed for sure!"  He passed a warning glance to Ell and Lhynn, who nodded as they read his intent, and he subtly ascertained that his grip on Selaena's arm was firm.  Then, his free hand lifted over his head, and he took as deep a breath as he could manage.  "Dark _Mist!!_"

Congealing out of thin air, black as pitch and almost palpably viscous fog settled in a blinding blanket over the streets, just in time for the fleeing quartet to pass another crossroads. Veering sharply left, guiding the staff-carrying spellcaster along with him, Aric lead the run a short distance onward down the new path...before finally stumbling to a halt, clearing the last vestiges of the spell-induced shroud as all staggered and skidded to a stop.  Selaena lifted one of her hands to clamp around the chimes at the head of her staff, silencing them, and the sounds of clanking armored footsteps continued to run by for some minutes, before finally fading into the distance.  Releasing Selaena's arm, he bent again to prop his hands on his knees, gasping deeply for air.  He wasn't the type for all this heavy constant running, and a five-to-ten minute break to sit down and rest had not been enough.   "...whew. Ell, good work getting the armor and all, but did you have to bring the city guard down on us?"

"Hey!" the half-Dragon responded sharply, "It isn't _my_ fault that little brat Kaia is a snitch.  I've half a mind to put the whelp over my knee next time I see her."

"Well, whatever.  The point is we're two up on Emilio now."

"Two?"

"Later," he waved aside, pushing himself to stand straighter.  Lhynn was the only one in the small group who didn't even look slightly winded.  Indeed, she continued to glare  into the mist toward the sounds of retreating footsteps, her right hand lifted over her shoulder to curl around the grip of her sword. This time it was she whom Aric addressed, causing her to turn toward him as he spoke.

"Say, Lhynn...now that that clod Emilio is gone, why don't you tag along with us for awhile? Why, with your swordplay and our magic..." But he trailed off, frowning slightly, as she simply gave him a blank expression that still bore halfhearted hints of a glare.

Swinging the great broad-bladed weapon down from its harness, the dark-haired woman stood her ground for a moment before making a sudden turn--right toward the City Wall which was now in plain sight. Vaulting up, she thrust her blade into a crack between the stones, used that grip to stretch up with her other hand and grab a higher ledge, then wrenched her sword free again and disappeared over the wall.

"...well." Leaving Ell to continue catching her breath, Aric turned back to the new girl with crossed arms. "Looks like they're after you, too, huh?"

Watching the amazing display of acrobatics, she blinked at the sound of his voice and looked over at him when he questioned her, absentmindedly tucking the shoulder-length braid with its dangling emerald behind her ear. "They should have no reason to." she replied quietly. "I have done nothing to warrant their attenuation...until a few moments ago." She released the tiny bells, which tinkled softly.

The misspoken word jolted the blonde's attention from the wall to the conversation, and a frown creased her petite features. "I think you mean 'attention', dear."

"That's what I said."

Aric ignored it this time, glancing toward her staff as a hand lifted to thoughtfully cup his chin. "Seemed to be that staff they were after, rather than just you."  He cast a knowing glance toward Ell from the corner of his eye.  She returned one in kind, with an almost imperceptible nod.  Seeing the exchange, and the look each of them gave the staff, the lavender-haired girl clutched it protectively closer to her and edged subtly backward.

"There were only a few until they saw the Armor, then more started filtering in," she added, shifting the suit higher on her shoulder with a subtle rattle of metal chain.

"But why the hell does Atlass City want the Artifacts?"  Aric demanded, tugging his hair in frustration. "Gah!  No time for this right now.  We need someplace quiet and safe to think this out."

Selaena still looked wary, and cautious, but she nerved herself and stepped forward again.  Daring to look him in the face, she mentioned quietly, "...I was headed for the library when I saw you. But if that will not do, I still remember where I camped last night; it is some distance from town."

"Far from town," the blonde woman proclaimed, forcibly straightening and lifting her free hand to elegantly fluff and then toss her hair, letting it gleam in the sunlight as it cascaded back down along her back like liquid gold. "Far from town is good. Guards will probably be watching a major structure like the library."

This time, Aric submitted to the demand, imperious as it was, and looked expectantly to the young woman who had inexplicably walked right up to him with their missing puzzle-piece. "Look, since this has become as much your problem as ours, will you lead us there?  You can't stay in town with the militia after you anyway."

She glanced uncertainly between Aric and Ellisia...then nodded meekly, turning. The little bells jingled softly at each measured step as she walked purposefully toward the open end of the little alley.

By this point the concealment spell had faded--though there was thankfully no further need of it, for the moment--and travel along the main roadway toward the city gate was relatively smooth.  With the militia on the lookout for three distinctive-looking people with magical Artifacts held in plain sight, the blockade at the gate had apparently been dissolved.  As little sense as that made (Aric would have imagined it would have been tripled instead), he wasn't one to look gift steeds in their chops.  Had he noticed the silhouetted figure watching them pass through the archway from the darkest available shadows, he would have reconsidered that philosophy.

Turning to look at the newly-acquired companion as they walked, Aric spoke up with a more casual air. "I suppose at this point more thorough introductions are in order. My name is Aric Winterbourne. And this is Ellisia."  The blonde just barely lifted one hand for an indolent little wave of acknowledgment.

"Good day and well-met to you both." she replied, looking up with a little smile. "I am Selaena von Dystrateven."  Aric nodded in acknowledgement--Ellisia merely let out a soft, wordless sound, something like a "hm" but without as much effort put into it, as she hefted the suit of armor a little higher on her shoulder with as little clanking as possible.

"Now," Ellisia went on promptly, skipping right past the formalities and addressing Aric.  "You said we were only _two_ up on Emilio.  I suppose it would be too much to hope that you managed to snag the Token," Ellisia spoke up at last, turning toward Aric with a lifted eyebrow.

"Well, um...Not..._exactly,_ no. No, I don't think you could say I exactly _managed_ to snag the coin. In fact, you _might_ say Emilio is probably a league out from the city by now. So we're still one shy of a full deck."

Ellisia sighed, lifting her hand to her temple.  "I see.  Wonderful.  Then do we at least have any clue where he might go now?"

"Notta one.  Well, at least, not until he finds us."

"Terrific.  And then there's still the maniacal pink-haired sorceress on the loose, probably still angry at us for taking the Armor from her.  Have I about sized up our situation?"

"I'd say so."

"Good."  She smiled unenthusiastically.  "I'd hate to be unaware of just how screwed we are."


	8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Selaena walked on in silence, letting the two talk. Up a hill, down the other side, over a small wooden bridge, and into a lightly-forested area, the road dwindling to little more than a wide path of packed earth. Abruptly she stopped and glanced about. Yes...this was familiar. Glancing back to beckon, she strode up the bank of the road and vanished between a pair of small trees, lightly rustling the leaves.

The two paused to either side of the gap into which she had disappeared, glancing to each other with small thoughtful frowns...then exchanged a nod and slipped through, Ellisia going first and Aric following grudgingly behind. Once through, each once again stood to either side, Ellisia with her hands on her hips and Aric with his arms crossed.

It was clear that this had been used for a campsite not very long ago. A bare spot, now scorched, had a ring of stones set up around it. A secluded little place, one could spot the road through the foliage, but unless deliberately poking around for it, it would be difficult to find. Turning so she could rest her back on a tree trunk, she inquired softly, "Good enough?"

"Satisfactory," Ellisia said as she tugged at a low-hanging leaf nearby, speaking in a tone that suggested she was offering a generous estimation.

Aric, on the other hand, was for once focused entirely upon this newcomer with apparently similar troubles to their own. Exactly when he opened his mouth to speak, however, was when Ellisia decided to drop the midnight-blue armor slung over her shoulder with a conspicuously loud rattling, drowning out Aric's words and causing him to flinch and glare halfheartedly at her. Clearing his throat as she dusted off her hands, he returned his attention forward again. "Okay. We've done introductions. What comes next? I'm sure we all have questions."

The bells tinkled wildly as the White Sorceress jumped at the clatter, her wide sky-blue eyes momentarily flashing to the source of the sound. Then, catching that ruby gaze on her, she fidgeted restlessly, the bells jingling softly. "...well, yes," she answered quietly after a moment, "I have a multilevel of questions. I think I had better start with asking why the Guard wanted my staff." Her delicate brow creased a little with concern as her grip tightened on the smooth surface.

Aric bit back the urge to correct her, realizing that at this rate he would be doing so every other breath.  Again the two adventurers exchanged a glance, before looking back to her.  And again, it was Aric who spoke.  "Well, first off, may we see the staff for a moment?  I want to check something."  Ell suddenly glanced at him, questioningly, but he ignored her for now.

He wasn't prepared for what came in response to his request.  Yelping and edging back like he'd asked she perform a striptease, the young woman clutched the staff to her so hard he feared she'd warp or break it, her knuckles paling over the ivory-braced shaft.  Screwing her eyes tightly shut, she nearly squeaked out, "Shadow Web!"  As though the light had changed direction above, her shadow stretched out across the ground, just far enough to touch both of theirs...and in so doing, render them immobile.  Aric blinked in surprise; then narrowed his eyes slightly.  After all his dealings with Emilio Van Strahd, to be caught like _this_...

"I-I'm sorry," Selaena apologized hastily, meekly, as she shifted her weight awkwardly from foot to foot.  "But I can't let you have it.  This is the only momentum I have...!"

"Memento," he corrected dryly.

"That's what I said."

He sighed, tiredly.  "...well.  You know, I think there are more civil ways to go about this," he said with deceptive calm, in spite of the ominous twitching of one azure eyebrow.  Ellisia, herself, seemed at too great a loss for words to even speak, though the gauntlet of ire, indignation and wrath that her expression went through said perhaps more than enough. "There are harder ways to do it, too, but I'd really rather not resort to something like violence when a simple 'no, I'd much rather you not' would suffice."

"I-I didn't say you couldn't _look_," Selaena hedged, almost like a child.  "But I have to be certified--"

"--certain."

"--that you won't take it.  This staff is the only thing I own, and the only thing I have left of my people."

His own twitching eyebrow, while a similar sign of unpleasantness to come, was nevertheless rather more subdued than Ellisia's boiling kettle of thwarted rage. His tone, however, remained relatively cool, while the blonde seemed beyond the point of words. "Well, as a White Sorceress I think you'll need to work on your people skills. You get a better reaction with that kind of request if you ask a little less rudely. Ell?"

Startlingly, the young woman's expression smoothed into regal composition almost instantaneously, as her voice rose in echoing cadences of incantation. "Light, born from the flame; gather to my hands and be my power!" In spite of the fact that her hands were still at her hips, illumination flared from both of them, lancing from within the gaps between fingers and folds in fabric, bathing the small campsite with light and erasing both their shadows--and thus, countering the spell.

"Now, how about we try this again?" Aric said, as Ellisia examined immaculate nails and fluffed her radiant hair again. "May we..._look_ at your staff and compare it to something?"

Toppling backward to her rump in astonishment as the young woman freed them, the bells jounced as she clutched the six-foot-long object across her middle. When she nervously lifted her head to glance between the adventurers, her almond-shaped eyes sparkled with tears. "You...you will not take it?" she asked quietly.

Nodding slowly, Aric slowly uncrossed his arms and stepped over to kneel next to the armor suit. Ellisia was still busy verifying her immaculate appearance in a small hand-mirror she had produced from apparently nowhere, so the blue-haired sorcerer ignored her and took a moment to study the suit first-hand, as the only part of the set he hadn't gotten a good look at.

The armor was more ornamental than utilitarian, based less on principles of maximized maneuverability and protection in combat and more on style, like a king's ceremonial wear.  Whatever metal it was made of, the entire affair was in varying shades of blue, save for the golden filigree that swirled across the breastplate, greaves and vambraces.  Even the chainmail was a deep ocean-blue, one of the darkest shades he'd ever seen.  The elaborate pauldrons on each shoulder were fashioned into the likenesses of dragonish heads sans lower-jaws, and the ends of the vambraces made to cover the back of the hand were in the form of stylized talons.  He smirked, slightly, to notice the pattern almost completed--save for the staff itself, oddly enough.

Examination through, he disconnected the vambrace plates from one side of the armor suit, leaving only the deep blue chainmail behind. Stepping closer toward the reluctant White Sorceress, as though approaching a frightened rabbit in the wild, he brought the armor closer to her staff.  While she watched him curiously, cautiously, she allowed the approach and even hesitantly lifted the Artifact a little.  With a soft hum, almost inaudible first but gradually picking up in pitch as they drew closer together, a subdued glow flared up along the length of the staff and around the traceries of the armor. When the light cleared, left running along both places were sets of shimmering runes--a sight that even drew Ellisia's attention from her exercise in vanity, her dark eyes wide.

Selaena's braid jogged free again as she sharply shook her head, and inquired pleadingly, "What's _that_? What have you done to my staff? What's going on?"

"Aric?" Ell spoke up in a similar, but less frantic tone.

"I've seen magic like this before," Aric explained, even as he hastily pulled the vambrace back and edged a safe distance away.  Even as the distance was renewed, both objects lost their glow, the runes fading to nothingness and leaving both pieces completely unmarked.  "I'll bet you a year's supply of Amnesia Dust that if you bring the Token close to these two, more writing will appear on it as well."  Somehow, Ellisia managed to remain silent even as he handed the vambrace off to her, merely accepting it and moving to reattach it to the rest of the suit.  Then he turned back to Selaena, whose wide eyes seemed almost unaware of the vanishing markings.  "Are you sure you won't part with that staff? If what we're beginning to suspect is true, it could be dangerous to keep it. We can reimburse you, or replace it...whatever it takes. We really, _really_ need that staff..."

But Selaena clutched the staff to her middle, so hard that it almost seemed the bones of her hands would emerge through the skin.  "N-No!" she said in a startling display of vehemence.  "No amount of reinvesting is possible!  Haven't you heard me?  This is _all_ I have of my parents, their home, their past--_my_ past!  I can't give it up!  I won't be able to learn anything without it!"

"H-Hey, wait...!" he tried to placate hastily, his hands raised in a gesture of surrender as he backed off.  This was getting too complicated for comfort, all of a sudden.  "There's no need to be unreasonable about this, lady..." A slender hand plucked lightly at his sleeve, at the elbow, and he glanced over his shoulder.

"Let _me_ handle this, Aric," Ellisia said loftily, tugging him back by the pinched fabric and then focusing her formidable gaze upon the timid sorceress. "Listen, dear. It seems to me that all of us share a similar problem, regardless of who carries which of these Artifacts, and that is that every human and his brother seems eager to claim them all by hook or by crook. You need this staff of yours to find your...answers, or whatever. _We_ need this staff in order to perform a complex unsealing ritual that will lead to a treasure lost since the days of the last Mazoku War, when Elves and Dragons both cooperated to create magical wonders. Let's weigh benefits, here, and be nice and reasonable."

The bells jangled as she planted the staff's blunt end on the ground firmly and leaned against it. The wild look eased from her expression by degrees as she thought over the regal young woman's words. "Well..." she hedged thoughtfully, "I _could_ let you make use of it, if you would not mind having me along." Her eyes hesitantly sought out each of the others' as she added, "And m-may I ask to seek my answers as we travel?"

While Aric was highly reluctant about this, Ellisia steamrolled ahead without so much as half a glance in his direction for approval, confirmation or even acknowledgment. "Fair is fair, dearie. You get your answers, we get our coin back and _I_ get my Zenafa Armor!" For the briefest moment, as she looked aside and vaguely heavenward, she seemed almost literally starry-eyed as she struck an exaggeratedly noble pose and let visions of glory dance before her eyes. The moment passed in a blink, and she turned away and went back to primping her hair. "Aric, be a dear and start us delicate ladies a fire, will you? It's been a long day and _I,_ for one, am not budging so much as another furlong."

"Start your own fire," he grumped, flopping down to sit in the grass and then blatantly laid back, folding his hands behind his head.  "I wanna go to sleep.  I'm not moving another inch until I catch about eighty winks."

In a sudden fit of generosity and goodwill--prompted in large part by Ellisia's booted foot grinding into his face--Aric had a change of heart and decided he would, indeed, collect the makings for firewood.  To his surprise, Selaena moved to help as well, unbidden, and even started the fire herself with a weak fire spell.

"Honestly, dear," Ellisia spoke up as Aric continued to gather up firewood to the edge of the clearing, in spite of the fire having already been started, "You really didn't need to do that. It's the gentleman's job to take care of such things as building fires and whatnot when he's with two refined ladies in the wilderness."

Struggling mightily to resist chucking a block of wood at the blonde, Aric stooped to collect another.

"After all, why should we have to do work when we have a perfectly good pack-mu--" _Donk!_ Suddenly Ellisia lurched to the side and then came up, rubbing the side of her head and then delicately adjusting the disarrayed strands of hair as Aric casually went back to wood collecting, his urge vented. "--Ah, that is, _traveling cohort,"_ the woman continued with a little glare in Aric's direction, before looking steadily back to Selaena, "to do it for us?"

"Because I can help," the lavender-haired sorceress murmured quietly, staring into the miniature flames as she settled her staff across her knees. "And because he trusted me, a stranger."

With her hair more or less back in proper condition and Aric once again preoccupied with his work, Ellisia reached up to remove the flowing white mantle she wore, smoothing it out on the grass and then lowering herself to sit cross-legged on the inner lining, as deep a black as her fathomless eyes. "Well, as you would have it. But if you're going to follow me in my travels you're going to have to learn how to travel in luxury. What else are sidekicks fo--" _Donk!_ "--What else are _compatriots_ for?" This time she looked distinctly disgruntled, but instead of commenting she neatly placed the two pieces of hurled firewood side-by-side, ready to be added to the fire at such time as was needful. Then she saw to her hair once more, this time continuing to comb fingers through it here and there even after undoing the damage. "Now about this staff of yours. Why so viciously protective to the point of un-provoked magical paralysis?"

Selaena took a deep, steadying breath, taking a cross-legged seat of her own with her staff laid across her lap, folding her hands across the shaft.  "This staff is the only tangible clue I have to the answers of who my people are and why I was sent away with my parents...and _this."_ She patted the staff lightly, then let her gaze fall to the dancing flame again. "...I was the only surveyor of a shipwreck, when I was little," she murmured, "and this was found close by me."

"Survivor, dear."

"That's what I said."

"Hmm..." Frowning slightly, Ellisia lifted a hand to her delicate chin, thumb absently stroking the line of her petite jaw.  "I can't imagine why, unless your parents were trying to unearth the Zenafa Armor as well...

Returning at last, Aric bent down to arrange his collected firewood atop the stack Ellisia had begun with his two projectiles, before joining at a point to one side of the campfire in a kind of unconnected triangle, not bothering to remove and sit on his cape the way his companion had. "Could have been trying to hide it, you know," he put in, glancing back and forth between the two. "You know, from the wrong kind of people.  These things don't make their way to boobytrapped sorcery labs and dungeons on their own."

"It _is_ possible." Selaena admitted quietly. After a moment of silence, she took a breath and started, "Have you ever seen a mark like this before?" Gesturing at the concentric triangles on her right cheekbone, she explained, "The others from the wreck all had the same mark."

Shrugging slightly, for his part, Aric turned a questioning glance on Ellisia--who could only shake her head with a small frown. "Certainly not familiar. And I'm familiar with most different forms of racial and religious markings," the blonde replied reluctantly, as though galled to admit that even this was beyond her knowledge.

Aric spoke up again, drawing up one knee and propping an elbow upon it. "Was there anything else like that staff on the ship at all? Anything with similar markings?"

She shook her head slowly, then tucked her braid behind her ear again. Glancing at her left wrist, she mentioned, "But this was all over fragments of chests, pieces of railing...and the ribbons." Lifting her left arm, she drew back the rose-maroon sleeve to reveal another black tattoo; it wound vinelike around her wrist, the leaves shaped like little flames.

Again an exchange of glances and, again, no sign of recognition. "I'm terribly sorry, dear," Ellisia replied helplessly at last, spreading her hands and shaking her head sympathetically, "but neither one of those markings looks familiar in the slightest. But I'm sure we'll have the chance to do a good deal of looking along the way--likely we'll have to chase that platinum-haired cretin and his sword-toting slattern from here to the ruins of Sairaag and beyond, with the head start he has." Giving Aric a hard look, she continued in a tone that didn't match her own narrowed eyes. "We've got two pieces to his one, now. He'll likely try and find a place to hide the one he has before seeking ours."

But Aric shook his head, crossing his arms stubbornly. "No, you don't know Emilio like I do, Ell. He's a man of drama--well, okay, he's a loon. He'll be coming after us, probably, and we can't just go around lugging this armor like this. It's noisy, it's cumbersome and it's heavy and I just know I'd be the one expected to carry it!"

Resettling her sleeve with a little half-disappointed sigh, she cradled the staff with one arm. Glancing up at the pair of them, she inquired innocently, "Can't it be worn? Isn't that what armor's for?"

"Well...setting aside the fact that it isn't exactly sized for either of us," Ellisia said glibly despite an awkward bead of sweat, as Aric himself was busily occupied getting better acquainted with the grass, "this is a suit of enigmatic enchanted armor that defies all forms of magical probing and identification. It could do anything from locking itself magically into place--never to be removed again--to changing the wearer into a hideous freakish beast. Or, Lord of Nightmares forbid, even change the wearer's gender. Did you know there have been crackpot human sorcerers in the past who made those kinds of things as practical jokes?"

A bead of sweat rolled down Selaena's temple.  "Oh...that might be a problem." she acknowledged. Fidgeting a little, she let the silence stretch on for a moment as the daylight started to fade. "...if you have some rope and can cut a pair of straight young saplings, I can build a pully to carry it on." she offered.

"You mean a litter of some kind?" Aric asked once he had righted himself, frowning and glancing over his shoulder at the suit in question. "But that would still be so cumbersome. We wouldn't be able to move with any speed, and if there came a point where we had to move fast we'd have to abandon it. I still say we need someplace secure we can store it."

Ellisia, however, rolled her eyes. "Ah yes, of course. You mean like the complex trap-ridden underground dungeons where we found them behind armies of guardian-monsters and pitfalls and collapsing ceilings."

"How far to the closest?" Selaena inquired softly, apparently trying to sound practical.

For a moment they both simply stared at her, the sarcasm evidently lost on the poor hapless sorceress. Exchanging a glance, they decided to simply cleared their throats in almost-unison and steer the subject back toward a possible solution.

"Uhm...let's see..." Aric muttered, planting his palms on his knees and hunching his head between his shoulders as he thought. "Hanging around and waiting for Emilio to come to us is out. We might have to try putting it on, nevermind whether it fits or not. Unless we can find some patsy to try it on for us and see if he gets cursed or not."  ...slowly, they both turned to look at the lavender-haired girl.

Blinking, she looked up...and gave them both a bewildered "what, me??" look. Gazing appraisingly at the object under question, she gently shook her head. "I don't think I would fit, either."

Reluctantly at first, they glanced between her and the suit for a moment--as though seriously contemplating a bit of judicious resizing--and then simply shook their heads. "No good. What we need is some big dumb brawny type," Ellisia grumped, propping her delicate chin onto the heel of one hand and sighing just shy of dramatically. "Or at least somebody taller than five feet."

Glowering for some undisclosed reason, Aric crossed his arms and grunted.

"I wonder if a Flow Break might work on it..." Selaena speculated aloud, tucking her braid behind her ear again, the emerald swinging gently over her shoulder.

"Not enough power," Ellisia dismissed with a small frown and a wave of her hand...though it left a thoughtful expression on her face, "But perhaps the right track. What we need is a higher level of spell-breaking...spell."

Glancing over his shoulder toward the armor, Aric grunted. "Shouldn't we find somebody to put it on first? We don't even know if it has a curse on it for sure, and it'd probably get a priest pretty pissed if we brought it up for nothing. Assuming we can even find a priest who won't turn us in to the Seyrune militia."

"Perhaps one might be found close to the other." Selaena shrugged, fingers idly tracing over the material of her staff.  "The best luck might likely be in the country; a sleepy little town where news of the caparison doesn't come through as often...  It's the best I can think of, anyway."

"News of the...?" Aric started, not even sure what correction to supply this time, but Ellisia thankfully had her priorities straighter, and she drew herself up to a higher seated pose and spoke imperiously.

"You're both still ignoring our biggest problem, and that's how to transport it!  I'm not about to lug this thing on my shoulder as we go traipsing about the countryside from town to town, and Aric is being a wimp and won't carry it either--"_ Donk_.  As she fixed her hair, Ell looked from the chunk of firewood lying on her cape beside her, to the pile nearby that was conspicuously missing a piece, and up to an entirely too innocent-looking Aric who was busy rooting through his pockets for something.

"Ugh!  You know what?  Hell with it.  Aric?  Go put the Armor on."

"Bite me," he answered politely, already easing himself to lie down again and curl up in his cloak.  "I wanna go to sleep."

"Fine.  Then _I'll_ put it on."  At first, Aric ignored what was obviously some attempt to wheedle him into stopping her, until he heard her footsteps approach the suit and heard the metal begin to rattle as it was lifted.  Pushing himself unhappily to sit up, he glanced questioningly to Selaena, who merely sat watching and awkwardly scratching her cheek.

Frowning, he turned to Ellisia herself, who had already donned the chainmail shirt and leggings and was beginning to buckle the greaves in place.

"Sh-Shouldn't we...you know, stop her?" Selaena asked, hesitantly.  Aric just shook his head.

"Nah.  Might be fun to watch.  I'd recommend you move back a bit, though."  He was already edging away, keeping wary eyes on Ell as she worked.  He hadn't expected her to actually _do_ it, but it might end up being worth a cheap laugh--he wasn't really _worried_, since most of the time when sorcerers cursed their artifacts with anything fatal, the curses would take effect upon touching the relic rather than donning it.

Selaena scooted back the same as he, placing a goodly distance between themselves and Ellisia even as she slipped the breastplate--thankfully already buckled together and large enough to pull on--down over her head and moved for the vambraces at last.  While the effect thus far was still a little large on her, the contrast wasn't as stark as Aric had expected, which made him begin to suspect multiple layers of enchantment.

For a long moment, once she had buckled the second vambrace into place...it seemed nothing would happen.  Ellisia stood, tapping her foot expectantly, but completely unchanged.  Aric, Ell and Selaena were just about to heave a collective sigh of relief, when--

the clearing exploded.  Well, not in the most literal sense, that would have left charred and blackened bodies and a crater pockmarking the earth.  But there _was_ a clap of localized thunder, an explosion of light and force that sent both Aric and Selaena tumbling end-over-end until they reached the fringe of the clearing and were stopped by trees.  The last he saw of Ellisia before the whiteness blinded him completely was her dark eyes, instantly seeking his out the minute the explosion started, and her mouth opening in the beginnings of a silent scream, two syllables he couldn't quite make out.

Then it was done.  The light dimmed, the blast receded to nothingness, and the wind faded to silence.  All was as before, even the campfire untouched, and Ellisia...


	9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

...Ellisia was all decked out in gold again.  Literally, for her skin was once again sheathed in fine, glittering golden scales, sparkling gold claws emerging from her fingertips, her latest pair of boots torn asunder again by clawed feet.  The sinuous golden tail lashed lazily along the grass behind where she kneeled, great wings unfurled like golden sails on an eccentric emperor's royal flagship, shadowing her beneath them.  Her hair fell forward like a curtain as her head hung, shadowing her face, and the talons on her fingers gouged the earth as they curled reflexively, in her efforts to push herself back up.  Inexplicably, the armor was gone, leaving her garbed only in the tattered remains of her clothing once again.  Aric could begin to see why she used that form so seldom even in crisis, considering her expensive taste in clothing.  He could also begin to get a glimmer why even with expensive appetites like hers, she didn't wear earrings; odds were that when her ears changed form from round to pointed, it would probably play painful havoc with such jewelry.

Off to one side, he heard Selaena gasp sharply.  _Uh-oh...she doesn't know..._

Spot decision time:  play it through as a side-effect and have the need to spill the truth in the future hanging over his head, or try to balance explaining now with figuring out just what had happened to their hard-earned Artifact...and what it had done to Ell.

He decided he already had enough to worry about with the Galamoth-Ellisia situation.  Hastily, he reached to take careful hold of Selaena's sleeve.  "I'll explain later, but don't be afraid.  She's done this before."

Ignoring the White Sorceress' wide blue eyes, he pushed himself up and rushed to the kneeling half-Dragon.  "Ell!"  Stopping before her, he dropped to his own knees, to examine more carefully.  Though this close he could hear her breath rasping in and out of her lungs, she nevertheless seemed in good health, outwardly unharmed.  In fact, now that he could see this closely, better than "unharmed"; before, so much had been going on that he hadn't had much chance to examine this form; she had been moving so quickly, and he had been so unsettled by the abrupt change...

Ellisia's half-Dragon form was the same general build and dimensions as her human state, but even beyond the skin and appendages there were unmistakable differences.  He could see corded muscle rippling beneath the scaled skin in her still slender arm, all the way up to her shoulder.  In an odd sense, even this form seemed to convey Ell's aura of regal beauty, in spite of the scales and other alien aspects; the scales shone in the light of the new-risen moon, and even the enhanced musculature in her arms and back managed to look lithe and athletic, rather than the kind of unnerving bulk he had seen in some of the sword-swinging valkyrie women from back home.

Sharply, he shook his head, resisting the urge to smack himself.  He wasn't sure which was worse, the timing or the very fact that he was eyeing a...

"...Ell?" he asked quietly, to cut off his own train of thought.  Slowly, ever-so-slightly, her head shifted toward the sound of his voice.  "Ell...hey, you okay?  Why did you...change?"

"...wha...what...happ..." she tried to pant out, her shoulders still heaving.  Lifting a clawed hand beneath the sheet of golden hair, she broke off the attempt, gulped for air a few moments more as she peered at it.  She slowly turned it this way and that, flexing the claws so that they glinted in the light.  Then she curled them completely, her whole body seeming to tense, and...nothing happened.  She tried again, a few more times, as Aric watched in silence...and then lifted her head just enough that he could see a dark eye peering through the curtain of gold strands fallen over her face.  "...Aric?" she croaked, a hoarse whisper.  "...I can't change back."

That took a moment to sink in, but when it did it was like a blow to the cranium from Ell's hammer:  sudden, unexpected and rather dizzying.  He hesitated a moment, then lifted one hand to her bare shoulder, finding the surface surprisingly smooth and warm in spite of the scales, like the hide of a snake.  She eased back away from his hand, but at least she was sitting up.  After handing her cape to her, to drape over her folded-up wings and wrap around to preserve her modesty, he turned back toward where he'd left Selaena.

She was still sitting in the same place, at least, her eyes wide and head tilted curiously.  He reached to beckon her closer, and she came reluctantly, keeping her staff positioned protectively between her and them.  The closer she came, however, the lower her guard became, and finally she came to kneel directly beside the two of them with her staff across her knees.

"...how?" was the only thing she asked, but the single word covered a whole spectrum of unspoken questions.

Aric let Ell do the explaining, since he wasn't sure if his over-exhausted and sleep-deprived mind was up to it.  He still wasn't even sure if he really _was_ still awake or not, though this seemed unusually vivid even for one of his dreams.  Selaena took it in impressive stride for someone who seemed so meek and rabbitlike half the time...but then, in spite of her word confusion she also gave the impression of an intellectual so he supposed he shouldn't be surprised.

When they finally seemed to have trailed off their question-and-answer session, Aric cleared his throat.  "Okay, now how about we focus on the important matters?  Where's the Armor and why'd it do this to Ell?"

Ell didn't even have to use her hammer, now; a simple bonk on the head with her fist produced a similar effect, sending him crashing face-first into the grass.  "Haven't you got your priorities backward?" she asked dangerously.

"Fine, fine," he mumbled, spitting out a mouthful of grass.  "Questions are still the same whatever order you ask them in."

During the exchange, Selaena had sat with her finger to her chin in thought, pondering silently.  Suddenly, her head lifted slightly, and she brought both her hands to grip the shaft of her staff.  Lifting it slightly, she started to bring it toward Ell, then paused, causing the bells to chime with the sudden lack of motion.  "...may I?"

Bemused, Ellisia nodded.

Selaena lifted the staff a bit more, easing it slowly toward the golden-haired woman...and, to both Aric and Ell's shock when the staff drew almost close enough to touch, runes of light flared up again, both along its length...and running over Ell's arms, and shining through the remnants of her shirt and the cloak wrapped around her, in the same patterns as the filigree on the armor.

"As I subjected," Selaena said with a hint of satisfaction, drawing the staff away so that the effect faded to nothing again.

"I think you mean 'suspected'," Ell murmured absently, examining her golden-scaled arm with trepidation.

"That's what I said.  Anyway...I think both questions may have the same answer.  The specimens--"

"--specifics?" Aric interjected without much hope.

"--are as yet unclear to me," she continued as though uninterrupted.  "But I believe somehow this may be part of the inherent enhancement."

"Enchantment."

"That's what I said."

"Right."  Aric sighed, wearily, and motioned for her to continue.

"At any rate...transfiguration," (Aric and Ell didn't even bother to correct her slip-ups this time, eager to get the explanation over with), "spells are rare, and generally require a Magic Circle at both the origin point and destination point to function properly.  A random teleport spell on an artifact could very well end up depositing it _anywhere_, from the Desert of Deconstruction to the Astral Plane itself, and magical artifacts require entirely too much time and effort to waste on such a random mishap."  She cleared her throat softly, pausing significantly in the manner of a Sorcerer's Guild professor, and even retrieved a small water flask from her belt and downed a bit to wet the tongue before continuing.  "Miss Ellisia obviously donned the armor, and by those linguistics it stood to reason that it was still on her person.  Apparently, the Armor's inherent curse to hinder its use is to unite with the wearer and alter his or her form in some way."

"And since it's gotten so 'attached' to her," Aric couldn't resist quipping, "just taking it off so she can change back will be no simple matter."

"Decisively." Selaena replied with closed eyes and a scholarly nod...though a small bead of sweat rolled down her temple when she opened them and saw that her audience was lying face-first on the ground again, and Ell was massaging the bottom of her fist and muttering about hard heads.

"So what are we going to _do_?" Ell blurted at last, hands on her hips, threatening to inadvertently expose herself as her wings tried to open as well.  Hastily she checked their movement, which only seemed to redouble her frustration.  "I can't go into town like _this_..."

"You'll have to, Ell," Aric said, frustrated as well for different reasons.  "If we're going to get you changed back, there's no choice.  Unless..."  He turned to Selaena.  "I don't suppose you know how to remove a curse?"

Hastily, the lavender-haired sorceress lifted her hands in a gesture of placating and shook her head, her braid continuing to sway gently after the motion.  "I-I'm nowhere near that far along in my studies," she said with a small, nervous laugh.  "I'm still studying 'Insurrection'."

"I think you mean 'Resurrection'," Aric said with a sinking feeling, silently resolving never to put himself in a situation that would require this particular White Sorceress to cast that particular spell upon him.

"That's what I said.  Anyway...the best I know how to cast is Flow Break, and we embellished that that spell is likely lacking in power.  You would probably need a High Priest to break a curse like this, or at least someone far better trained than I.  I-I taught myself much of what I know, from books and scrolls, and the rest I learned secondhand."

"Drat."  He sighed, turning back to Ellisia.  "Look, Ell, we're just going to have to disguise you somehow."

Ellisia looked down at her clawed hands and feet, at the twitching tip of her tail that had curled half-way around her in a crescent shape, and at the leathery golden surface of one wing.  Then she looked back up at him with a lifted brow, a sardonic smirk on her golden lips.  "I think we'll need more than a hooded cloak this time."

It took some doing, including some sneaking back into town in the dead of night and "lightening" of laundry-lines, but Aric returned to camp with just as the moon was past its zenith and beginning to descend, dragging himself back to the site with the needed supplies.  He then promptly crashed to the ground, not bothering to hand over the things he had retrieved or even curl up in his cloak, and instead fallen right asleep face-down in the grass.

The next morning he awoke reluctantly, dragged from his rest on penalty of Mono Volt.  Then, they got to work making Ell presentable for travel.

A new shirt was in order, this one specifically altered to permit her wings while still keeping her covered properly--getting it on had been a chore, from the sound of the two women working that he had heard over his shoulder, back turned on pain of hammer strike.  He had also procured larger gloves and boots, and of heavier and sturdier brown leather as not to be shredded by her claws.  A thick black scarf, bundled heavily around her neck and shoulders and, most importantly, lower face, was accompanied by a voluminous white cloak with a hood, to hide her wings and cover her pointed ears and cast the golden-scaled skin around her eyes into shadow.

The effect was hardly a fashion-statement when it was completed, and she complained terribly even as she stuffed the remnants of her old shirt and her favorite cape into her pack, but it was serviceable.  It made her look decidedly suspicious, and made her gender hard to guess at if one didn't already know, but at least she wouldn't be walking about town with her wings, claws, and golden scales plain to see.  Her tail had been tricky, too--they'd finally had to actually bind it around her waist like a belt, tying it firmly in place so it wouldn't accidentally lash free.  After much ado and substantial complication, they were ready to go.

Save for one thing.

"...does anybody have any money?" Aric asked the inevitable, dreaded question.  "I mean, these priestly types always ask for a 'donation to their church' in exchange for their services, right?  Besides, I don't know about you two, but I'm starving."  Three money-purses were turned inside-out.  Two came up empty; Aric's coughed up a little moth but no coins.

"Crap."  He frowned in consternation for a moment, then brightened and clapped Ellisia on the shoulder.  "We could always sell Ell's favors for money.  I'm sure in these backwater farming villages there's bound to be _someone_ with a taste for scales and w_hoommphh!_"  He finished his sentence with half his face pressed into the indentation he had made into the tree against which Ell had thrown him.  He slowly peeled off, even as she dusted off her hands, and crashed into the ground with a thud.

"Hmph," was all she had to say to that suggestion.

After Aric's wood-chip breakfast, it was unanimously decided that they would not be selling Ellisia's favors.

"I always found treasure-hunting to be a worthwhile source of ingénue," Selaena put in thoughtfully.

"I think you mean revenue," Ell replied.

"That's what I said."

"We don't have time to look into mystic ruin rumors and whatnot," the half-Dragon mused, crossing her arms, her voice slightly muffled behind the scarf.  "Nor a place to sell treasures if we found them, since Atlass City is not very friendly to us at the moment.  Same applies to collecting bounties."

Aric groaned wearily, after he had dragged himself back to his feet, raking gloved fingers through his deep azure hair.  "This sucks.  I bet this kind of thing never happens to Lina In...verse..."  Suddenly he blinked, as inspiration slowly dawned on him, as it had so many times upon references to That Name.

He saw the other two hastily looking around, as though half-fearing he had summoned the most feared sorceress on the continent simply by uttering her name and suspecting that was why he had trailed off.  They both looked distinctly surprised when they saw the slow grin creeping over his face.  "Ell, did you mention bounties?"

"...er, yes.  There were posters all over town, and people were talking about a place somewhere in the northeastern woods..."

"...that'll do."  Aric smirked.  Ellisia blinked.  Selaena gulped.

Bandit encampments were not built with style or originality in mind.  They were built with the intention to contain and defend a stash of ill-gained loot, with minimalist facilities for the defenders in question to live by until they had amassed enough to make each man independently wealthy and could thus move on to the next site, squander it all and start over again.

Thus, the particular encampment in the northeastern part of the forest near Atlass City was fairly typical and not particularly awe-inspiring.  A simple wooden palisade forming an almost-complete circle around the mouth of a cave, sturdy logs lashed vertically together with both ends sharpened, one point planted into the ground and the other poking quite discouragingly up at the very top to prevent climbing.

Inside the palisade, guard-post towers at the corners, with lookout/archers ready to yell "intruder!" at the top of their lungs while peppering said intruder with arrows, and beyond these were the facilities.  Part of a nearby stream had been diverted into several narrow gaps in the palisade, each just wide enough to allow the water to trickle into wooden barrels set into holes in the ground, and supply a nice, ample supply of drinking water.  Some camps even kept their own personal sorcerer on hand, just in case of magical difficulties...especially in this day and age, with the Bandit Killer on the randomly-roaming rampage.

"Don't like how quiet it is out here, tonight,"  Bandit Lookout Number One said to Bandit Lookout Number Two, spitting off one side of the south guard tower onto the head of a man below.  "S' a bad sign."

"You say that every night," Bandit Lookout Number Two replied offhandedly, dismissing his partner's doomsaying offhandedly as he pulled the string of his bow, testing the strength yet again.  "It's _always_ quiet in these woods.  Nobody ever comes up here, that's _why_ we set this place up."

"Won't stop Her," Number One mumbled, scratching the stubble along his cheek with a soft rasping sound, fingers twitching nervously more than moving consciously.  "Never stops Her.  _Nothin'_ never stops Her..."

"Awh, not _that_ tripe again," the younger man scoffed, rolling his eyes in the universal gesture of Generation Gap communication.  "Look, pops, you ain't scarin' nobody with that old story.  Who'd ever be afraid of some scrawny little girl?"

Number One smote Number Two with the shaft of his bow.  "Fool boy!  'At's what I thought at your age, too!  But then She burst into camp one night...blew away _hundreds_ o' men with a wave of 'er hand!  With those burnin' red eyes...that high, squeaky voice...a-and that damned laugh...!"  Lookout Number One got right in Number Two's face, jabbing the bridge of the younger man's nose with a finger.  "Mark you my words, boy...'at's no mere girl, 'at's Shabranigdo Himself in disguise!"

"Yeah, whatever, pops."

Conversation stopped around this point as each man froze...literally, standing congealed exactly where they were in jagged blocks of ice.  There was a snap of wings unfurling, as Ellisia glided with Aric toward the tower, the guards at the other two already disabled in similar manner.  With no small amount of self-satisfaction, Aric lightly rapped the forehead of the younger frozen man.  "All too easy.  And here I thought this might be a challenge."

"I can't believe I'm taking part in this.  Are you sure you know what you're doing?"  Ell glanced at him from the corner of one dark eye, frowning.  Her disguise had been temporarily shed for now, permitting full use of wings and claws, though not exactly rendering her appropriate for stealth.  But then, stealth had only been necessary to get in, as Aric demonstrated posthaste.

Moving to the edge of the tower, ignoring Ellisia's question, Aric slowly let his hands lift.  Gloved fingers half-curled, making claw-like gestures, as he let his voice rise in echoing tones of incantation.

_"You who goes through both Air and Earth;_

_Gentle flow, floating Water;_

_Gather to my hands and make a glacier!"_

Pouring the full force of his power into the spell, incantation and gestures and all, he drew his hands back by his side, cupping the sparkling blue light between them and feeding it more and more.  His hands slowly spread apart, forced open as the globe grew, and finally when it was in danger of exploding right in his grasp, he cast his hands forward and released it.  _"Vice Freeze!"_

The sphere continued to grow in magnitude as it tumbled down toward the center of the encampment, heads turning at the sound of his voice or the sudden glow of light...entirely too late to see the flash of magic energy coming.  The spell struck the ground unchecked, exploding in a flash of blue light, and when it cleared...

Most of the ground inside the encampment was iced over, save for a few jagged stopping points around the furthest corners.  Flash-frozen bandits stood, sat, belched, or counted flash-frozen coins in various positions in absolute stillness and silence, a light fog just beginning to rise from the ice, all over the camp.  Dusting his hands off with a smirk, Aric began to descend the ladder.

"Okay..." Ell murmured, sounding grudgingly impressed.  "Not too bad.  But now what?  You froze most of the money, too."

"Not what's in the cave," he countered proudly.  "And as for what's out here, that's where you come in.  You can chip the money free after we loot what we need out of the cave.  Right?"

She glared down at him, which he presumed for lack of a more satisfactory answer to mean "yes".

"You know, it really makes me wonder why more people don't do this," he went on as they reached the ground, almost slipping on his own ice and throwing his hands out to steady himself.  "I mean, you know?  If it's really this easy, then why are there any two-bit hoods like this anymore?  You'd think sorcerers could have put them out of business years ago."

"Ah, but you see...bandits make a habit of seldom hiring on underlings as intelligent as they are.  Makes them easier to lead, you know."

"Good point," Aric conceded...then blinked.  Ellisia had not been the one to say that.  Neither had he, though the voice had indeed been male.  He frowned, that familiar gut instinct that something was not right settling into his stomach again, and slowly turned toward the mouth of the cave.

Two figures were emerging, slowly.  For a moment, upon seeing that one was slender and male and the other was quite distinctly swaying curves in the feminine manner, he half-suspected Emilio and Lhynn.  But this man was _too_ slender to be Emilio, and the girl far too short to be the treasure hunter's new companion.

Once they stepped out into the moonlight, Aric and Ellisia caught themselves in identical doubletakes.  The girl, at least, was familiar:  Kaia stood with indignant hands on her hips and a pout that was entirely too cute to be a real glare on her features, as she stared them down.

The man, however, was new:  he stood half a head taller than Aric, his hands tucked into the pockets of a long but form-fitting black coat.  The coat itself was open-front and buttonless, revealing more featureless black clothing beneath (and, of more significance, two crisscrossing bandoliers of very sharp-looking throwing blades), and its divided tails fell down to his mid-calves.  His hair was a darker shade of blue than Aric's own, almost navy in color, and his eyes matched it perfectly.  He smirked, arching a dark blue eyebrow.  "I'll admit, you're certainly not the one I had expected to see.  Odds are, you don't have what I'm looking for, either.  But maybe at least you'll provide some entertainment."

"Who _are_ you, anyway?" Aric asked, only half-interested, as he crossed his arms.  The question was more to buy time, keep the other man talking as he tried to figure his next step.  "You're pretty chatty for a bandit.  And you actually look like you shave regularly."

The other man barked a laugh, lifting a hand from his pocket to reveal the fingers sheathed by a skin-tight black gloved.  He raised a single finger, wagging it disparagingly.  "I'm afraid my name is a secret.  There's power in names, you know.  They have a great deal of signifi--"

_"Kyle!"_ Kaia interrupted his speech, her fists balled at her sides as she exuded overtures of "cute tantrum".  "These are the nasty people who stole my Armor!"

Kyle fell over--and not because he had slipped on the ice, which he still stood well clear of.  Upon rising, he glared at the young sorceress from the corner of his eye.  "Kaia, do you mind?  I was trying to make an entrance!"  Wearily, he sighed, turning his back and waving an indolent hand.  "Just summon something to dispatch them and let's be off.  I think we've wasted enough time with these _Oh sweet Lord of Nightmares it burns like unholy fire from the lowest bowels of Shabranigdo's cursed digestive system!!_"

For Kyle had just quite abruptly been set aflame, right before Aric and Ell's very unsettled eyes.  For a moment, Kaia flailed in cute dismay, at a loss--much like her companion, save that he had the excuse that his coat and hair were burning.  Then, with a hasty stuttered spell, the young sorceress doused him, and as he lay on the ground smoking lightly all three remaining sets of conscious eyes turned toward the guard from which Aric had entered.

The roof and of the tower and its four support-beams were gone, blackened and smoldering stumps the only evidence they had ever existed--obviously taken out in the same blast.  And upon the platform stood a single silhouette, cape fluttering in the night breeze, massive shoulder-guards jutting out and adding an illusion of bulk to an otherwise slight figure.  A single hand was extended, smoke gently wafting from the fingertips.

"I don't know who you guys are, but it's obvious you're not very good at this.  In about five minutes you would have had the rest of these bandits breathing down the backs of your necks."  The person--a young girl, from the sound of her voice--turned to call over her shoulder, long scarlet hair billowing the in the same breeze as her cape.  "Gourry, you almost done with those guys?"

An affirmation was called back, muffled by the wall...though, now that he was listening for it, Aric could hear the sound of clashing blades and occasional screams.  He frowned slightly, looking back over his shoulder to where Kaia was still fretting over a lightly crisped Kyle, poking hesitantly and flinching every time he twitched and yelped in response.

Suddenly, something clicked in his head.  Gourry...Gourry...the name was vaguely familiar.  No one he'd ever met personally, nor even heard any spectacular stories about specifically.  But he knew at least that it was associated with...with...

His eyes went wide, and he reflexively snatched a grip at Ellisia's arm as his gaze trailed up along the tower.  It was at that moment the clouds decided to shift, funneling a shaft of moonlight just so and casting the figure atop the watchtower from deep shadow into full moonlight.  His jaw dropped, and even Ellisia couldn't pull her arm away from his grip.

The person standing atop the tower, who had just fried this unorthodox bandit-chief and probably saved their hides from a new summoning spell...was none other than Lina Inverse.


	10. Chapter Ten

_Ye Olde Not So Lengthy Author's Note: Kudos to anyone who can spot the video-game reference n.n_

Chapter Ten

Lina Inverse. The person who had single-handedly inspired Aric Winterbourne's whole career. Who had prompted him wordlessly from afar to study Black Magic. Who had, unintentionally and entirely unknowingly, given him a long-term goal in his life of wandering magic-accumulation. That goal: to become the next "Lina Inverse" of the sorcery community.

No, it wasn't that he hoped to follow in her footsteps--though his embarrassing stature seemed to want to state otherwise. There were simply too many differences for that, not least of which being gender, a respect for property-damage and a decidedly average appetite that could never hope to compete. Rather, it was the notion that a real person could become so infamous, so common a household name that even those not versed in the study of magic knew of it. Not since Lei Magnus, had there been such a person. Not until Lina Inverse--a seemingly inconsequential girl from Zeifilia, to look at (not that a wise man would say so to her face) and not too far from his own age.

If she could do it...why couldn't he, someday?

Thus, indirectly, he owed the girl a great deal. He had never expected to owe her his life, of all things.

Which was why he fell flat on his face when Ellisia spoke, his grip on her arm forgotten. "How _dare_ you butt into our business, you uncivilized little guttersnipe?! We were here first and we could have handled it ourselves! Shouldn't you be off playing with the other children?"

Aric found himself wishing he could dig a very, very deep hole and hide there for about a millennium. He also found himself glad they had left Selaena safely back at a new hidden campsite--since the last one had surely drawn quite a bit of attention with that flare of light and all.

He could have sworn he saw a vein beginning to bulge on Lina's forehead. He was _positive_ he could hear her teeth grinding in the silence that followed, could even hear the material of her gloves creaking softly as she curled her hands into fists. Eyes narrowed dangerously, an eyebrow twitched in signs of deadly promise. "...Ell, you're a real idiot sometimes..." Aric mumbled, swallowing hard. "We are so dead..."

"What are you talking about? That was just a lucky sh--"

_"Mega Brand!!"_

Aric suddenly had a very significant glimmer how Emilio felt, as the ground exploded beneath their feet, chunks of ice and frozen bandits flying like droplets of water after chucking something very large into a lake. They sailed through the air with the greatest of ease, trees whizzing beneath them, and then approaching at an alarming rate as they began to descend.

It was around this point that Aric found himself wishing that someone had invented painkilling magic. He was really, really going to need it tomo--

He awoke with a thump as he struck the ground, and blinked dazedly as he tried to make the bleary surroundings focus. The first thought was how odd it was that the surroundings were all browns and greens when he had just clearly fallen out of bed. The second thought was that it had been an awfully long drop for falling out of bed, and the third was that he ached all over.

As the blurred environs resolved themselves into trees and brush and Ell and Selaena, clarity and recollection came. But before he could sort these out in the proper order, Selaena herself spoke with a little flinch, cringing and clutching her staff close. "S-sorry...But you were still stuck in the tree, and..."

"And I had her poke you out of it," Ell finished dryly, clearly nursing some sore spots of her own. "How _dare_ that little tart do that to us? I've half a mind to--"

_"Shh!!_" Aric hastily "shh'ed'. "Are you _crazy?!_ Do you realize who that was?!"

"I'd imagine some little waif who'd gotten into her mother's spellbooks," Ell muttered in annoyance, plucking at her dirt-stained clothing with dismay.

"That was _Lina Inverse_, you twit!" Aric hissed, softly.

Even Selaena blanched. "The E-Enema of All who Live...?" she stammered.

Aric nearly choked, and hastened to correct, "Enemy, but what's a--"

Ell cut him off, this time. "I don't care if she's the Knight of Ceipheed, herself! Next time I see her, I'll--"

"Her sister's the Knight of Ceipheed." Naturally, Aric had done his homework.

"--apologize most profusely and offer her half my dowry," Ell hastened to finish. Then she sighed, tiredly. "Well...that was a bust."

"Yeah," Aric agreed with a sigh. "Not only are we still broke but now we've also managed to piss off Lina Inverse. So much for that brilliant get-rich-quick scheme."

"...well, I _was_ the one who irritated Inverse..." Ellisia admitted, startling Aric and even Selaena. Aric frowned just a little, thoughtfully, then cleared his throat into the top of his fist.

"Well, anyway, since none of us has any better ideas...why don't we just move along and see what happens? Maybe we can appeal to a priest's sense of charity. ...or leave an I.O.U. in the collection plate." Both young women looked over at him for a moment...then nodded slightly, as he turned with a swirl of his rather ragged-fringed cape.

Like Obscurity, Bordertown was aptly named. A rather pleasant little village, it sat directly astride the border that separated the country of Seyrune from the territories occupied by what had once been Sairaag. While attempts to rebuild the city had been made since the two disastrous sequences of events that had decimated the locale, it would take a great deal of time to build up quite the level of city that had once reigned over the region, just on the verge of becoming a kingdom in its own right. Many of the surviving former residents had felt it simply too much time and too little reward to focus on rebuilding yet again, and so reconstruction sat in a sort of perpetual hiatus, with occasional rare bouts of work inspired by patriotic zeal.

In spite of the stigma surrounding the once fabulous former city, the citizens of Bordertown--a mingling of Seyrune inhabitants and Sairaag-territory natives--seemed perfectly content with their lot in life. So much so, even, that Aric was surprised to notice relatively few odd looks in Ell's direction, even though in a placid place like this she stood out like a green tomato in a basket of red apples.

Selaena seemed quite content, the bells on the head of her staff chiming merrily as she walked beside them, and Ell was too busy keeping her eyes low and her walk as inconspicuous as possible under the circumstances to react much, but Aric couldn't help but find it distinctly odd that the town seemed so...blatantly _cheerful_. He wasn't sure if it was necessarily a _bad_ sort of odd, but not necessarily _good_ either. It just all seemed almost...artificial.

Thankfully, however, it brought their goal that much closer. The first few strangers on the street they queried at random (the tried and true method for obtaining information, for all that it had been absolutely useless in Atlass City) couldn't help them, but had been willing to direct them to others who might. The shopkeepers in their tarp-covered, open-air stalls on Market Square cheerfully spoke of the wandering White Sorceress who had recently come into town, performing miracles for those in need. Selaena's smile grew broader at this, Ellisia brightened for more self-oriented reasons...and Aric crossed his arms with a slight frown of thought. It was entirely possible that this was the source of the air of good cheer about the village, but...

"Any idea where we might find her?" Aric asked the merchant across the simple wooden counter, who had gone back to inspecting the rind of a melon for flaws or cracks once the question was answered.

"Well, sonny boy," the near-toothless old man said, in a slow, lazy drawl that nearly made Aric want to choke the words out of him. All this incessant smiling and laughing from all sides was beginning to grate on his nerves. He had nothing against being happy and prosperous, but one could only tolerate having his nose rubbed in it for so long. "Can't say's I rightly know. After all, she's a _wand'rin'_ White Sorc'ress for a reason. Never seems to sit still in one place at a time. Far's I know she's still in town, but the _where_ of it's another matter. Don't worry s'much about it, son. If'n you've a need, she'll find ya sure 'nough. 'At's just how she is."

"Well, we _have_ a need," Aric replied as patiently as possible, albeit through clenched teeth. "And we've been wandering around this town for quite some time with no sign of any other White Sorceress. Is there _anything_ you might possibly be able to tell us?"

"Well'sir..." The old man paused, smacking his jaws as the near-toothless elderly are wont to do for indecipherable reasons. Aric felt his fingertips digging into his palms right through the gloves, as his fingers curled tighter. "Y'see, 'round here? We like t' think what's meant t' be will be. If'n yer meant t' find 'er, you'll find 'er sure 'nough. Problem wi' you young folks these days is you 'got no patience, you know that? Why, I remember way back..."

It took both Ellisia and Selaena to hold Aric back from vaulting over the counter and breaking a watermelon over the man's head. "Let go!" he demanded through gritted teeth, "Must...make...talking...stop!! Five minutes, just five minutes is all I need!" Both of them dragged him away around the street corner by force, the bells on Selaena's staff jangling loudly since she refused to release it. Thankfully, in spite of the proximity, it didn't come close enough to Ell to set off the runes again.

Once safely out of sight--and more importantly out of earshot--of the talkative storekeep, Aric managed to recover his composure, fingers raking through his hair as he attempted to calm himself. Nevertheless... "Well, seems like we're still in the hole."

"But we're closer," Selaena put in reasonably. "Besides, as a famous philanthropist once said, 'the journey is, in and of itself, half the reward'."

"I think you mean 'philosopher'," Aric mumbled, wondering why he bothered even as he did.

"That's what I said."

"And anyway," Ell broke in, before Aric's urge to strangle could be redirected to a conveniently closer target, "'half the reward' in this case still won't bring me back to normal. Still, I have a feeling that's probably the best clue we're going to get. So I suppose our only remaining recourse is to wander aimlessly around town until we bump into her."

Aric opened his mouth to protest...closed it, opened and tried again...then simply sighed and shook his head. Try as he might, he simply couldn't think of an intellectual alternative, something likely to have more success than "Bite me, I'm not walking around all day long". With Ell's current strength effectively tripled, he had decided to try a less aggressive approach to getting out of manual work for the time being. Her strength was intimidating enough in her full-human phase.

"Better idea," he said, crossing his arms firmly and shifting his weight in a significant manner. "_You two_ can wander aimlessly around town until you bump into her. _I'm_ going to go check into the inn and sleep. I have gotten nowhere near enough sleep lately, and every time I've tried I've been rudely interrupted."

"I sincerely hope you aren't making an attempt at beauty-rest," Ellisia fenced, the smirk almost visible against the folds of her scarf. "Besides, what are you going to check in with? I don't think they accept lint as a form of currency in any major human country." This time it was Aric's turn to exact physical revenge, hefting an empty crate standing conveniently against the wall at the corner and bringing it crashing down on her head.

As she rose back to her feet while Selaena watched awkwardly, Aric turned to stomp off down the road in irritation. Ordinarily he wasn't the sort to resort to non-magical violence, but this place just had him on edge, and the longer he remained, the stronger the feeling got.

He wandered aimlessly for awhile, in spite of his best intentions, since he really had no idea _where _he was going--Ell was right, though he was loath to admit it: they still had no money and thus no way to check in. Ell was just beginning to drive him nuts, for no particular reason he could put his finger on, and as edgy as this place alone made him he really didn't feel like dealing with that right now too. He'd simply had to get away for awhile.

Now, however, he was beginning to regret this sudden attempt at lone-wolf brooding. He wasn't sure if it was just his imagination preying on his already significant paranoia of the place, or simply a sheer matter of coincidence coupled with his normal ill luck...but he was almost positive he was being shadowed. Every so often, he would stop and glance around, as casually as possible, as though simply trying to pick out landmarks from a set of directions. And every time he would stop, the feeling would pass, with no evidence to found his suspicions in sight. He couldn't help but notice, however, that the longer this went on, the fewer people there seemed to be in the streets...which began to truly concern him, when they begin to dwindle to a bare few. None of them seemed to notice, themselves, or even to notice him; they simply went on about their business with the usual placid smiles, some even whistling or humming merry but unoriginal little tunes.

Thus it was little surprise that he reacted to the sudden, stark and unmistakable sound of footsteps directly shadowing his by whirling with a burst of spontaneous Water Shamanistic Magic, sparkling blue light exploding from his palms with a shout of "Lah Freeze!"

Though the individual behind him stood encased in a jagged rectangular prism of solid ice, the features on the face stretched into a rather self-satisfied smirk, the green eyes narrowing smugly, as a very familiar voice spoke as though absolutely unhindered. "Good reflexes, my boy."

Taking a stunned step back, Aric's scarlet eyes went wide. "Galamoth!"

The Mazoku's human form was surprisingly innocuous. He took the form of a warrior, noticeably taller than Aric (of course) with brilliantly scarlet hair that was slicked back in smoothly curved spikes. His attire was a jigsaw-puzzle of mismatched armor pieces, scale mail lashed together with patches of chainmail riveted to metal and leather plates, all of different designs. The effect came off as though he had scavenged a battlefield of two slaughtered armies, picking out what he found most interesting and leaving the rest, then meshing it all together over a simple shirt and trousers. Slung over his shoulder, laying against the forest-green cape, was a broad sword comparable in size to Lhynn's own.

Abruptly, as recognition came, the Mazoku's expression shifted from wryly amused to faintly irritated. "But what in Shabranigdo's name do you think you're _doing_? This is the second time in as many days that you've strayed from your charge! What if something _happens_ to the fool girl while you're otherwise occupied with yourself? Allow me to remind you that if anything of a permanent nature happens to her, you're not seeing one cent nor ounce of your reward."

With a casual tensing of muscles, the ice shattered like glass, the shards tumbling to pile up around Galamoth's mismatched greaves. Aric took another step back...then nerved himself, crossing his arms stubbornly. "There's still a few things I don't get. Why the hell is a _Mazoku_ so interested in preserving the life of a half-Dragon? Especially one _searching_ for an artifact to _fight_ Mazoku?"

"We've been over this, m'boy," Galamoth replied offhandedly, even as he lifted up one gauntlet and flexed the fingers, flecking bits of clinging frost off the metal. "You are not brought upon this world to 'get' things beyond your potential comprehension. What does it matter to you? I should think it would ease your silly conscience to become an independently wealthy power in the world just for preserving a holy being's life."

Aric chose not to comment on the "holy being" part. "Why should I trust a Mazoku? It's not like I have any guarantee that there'll really be any supposed reward."

"Ah, but you knew that before you agreed to anything, didn't you?"

"This is turning out to be more work than I expected."

Galamoth rolled his eyes, slowly striding toward the nearest wall and turning to rest his back against it, with crossed arms. "Such a lazy human. How do you ever expect to achieve real power without the inclination to work for it? Even _Mazoku_ know that."

"Bite me, Gal," Aric tossed off, turning his back and beginning to walk. "I don't feel like it. I'm gonna find someplace to get some sleep."

Lightning cracked down from the clear blue sky, blacker than night, causing Aric to stumble back as it struck the street in front of him with a flare of black light. When he could see again, there was no actual damage to the street--and, almost as startling, no windows flew open and no people came running to see the source of the commotion, nor to flee it. Of more significance, Galamoth was standing in the place where the bolt had struck.

"I'm afraid you misunderstand; this is not a debate. Go and find the girl. Now."

"Hey, hey, hey," Aric tried to defuse the situation, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Let's not go overboard with this. I'm just gonna go catch some winks while the girls go try to fix Ell's...problem. What's the worst thing that could happen to her in a little dirt-ball town like this?"

Galamoth did not seem to be in a placable mood. "You'd be surprised, human. Now go, unless you'd like to find out for yourself." Slowly, a breeze Aric could not feel began to play about with the trailing ends of the Mazoku's cape, stirring dust around his feet as invisible but tangible power began to gather around him.

Narrowing his eyes, Aric took a defensive step back, fingers slowly half-curling. Damned if he was going to let this pretentious musclebrain push him around, demon or no. "I'm gonna say this one more time," Aric said quietly, ominously, as sparkling blue light began to gather around the claw-curved fingers at his sides. His knees half-bent, tensing, ready to move. "And then I'm gonna stop being polite. Bite me, Gal."

"Well, if you insist." Indolently, the Mazoku lifted one arm, palm facing Aric--who blinked in momentary surprise...until the appendage changed form, from the elbow forward, dissolving into a near-amorphous tendril of roiling darkness. This then lurched toward him like a striking serpent, its forward end even taking on the vague aspect of toothy snapping jaws.

Aric dove to the side, rolling over his shoulder so the dagger-sized black teeth closed on empty air. When he came up, he cast his hands forward, suddenly changing tactics as he recalled the lack of effectiveness Elemental Shamanism had on Mazoku. _"Bram Blazer!"_

Astral spells were far from his area of expertise, but even he was capable of firing the fist-sized beam of Astral power from his palm. It struck home as Galamoth was busy retracting his attack, catching the Mazoku in the armored side--and since the armor was part of his Astral substance just like the rest of his body, the patch where it hit dissolved into formless blackness for just an instant, as Galamoth staggered with the force of the blast.

"Why this sudden, pointless defiance?" the demon asked, actually seeming genuinely baffled as he turned to face Aric, his arms both normal again. To the ruby-eyed sorcerer's distress, Galamoth seemed scarcely annoyed by the attack. "As I recall, not more than a week or two a go you were profoundly eager to line your pockets and broaden your magical horizons."

"Yeah, well, I'm gonna do it _my_ way," Aric retorted, already beginning to realize that this was a losing battle. "If you don't like it, we'll throw down. It's gonna get done, so why not just leave it at that?

Galamoth actually laughed. A good, hearty laugh that lasted for a significant moment, his head thrown back and his broad shoulders shaking with the sound. Then, lowering his gaze again, he slowly shook his head...then he raised a finger, and waggled it admonishingly. "You know something? You've got something of a spine after all, Aric Winterbourne. I'm a little bit impressed. So I'm going to let you live today. But I'm afraid a lesson in discipline, and respect for your betters, is still in order."

Not even altering his posture, Galamoth struck again--this time it was his cape, the forest-green "fabric" dissolving into tendrils of malleable darkness and curving around past him. The jagged ends drove themselves into the street, piercing right through the paving-stones as Aric danced back to avoid them, each coming just shy of skewering him quite fatally. Realizing his back was coming dangerously close to the wall across the street, he slid to the side to avoid one of the last--a mistake, for it pierced the white fabric of his cape, pinning him in place as he tried to fumble the clasp at the collar loose.

He saw the last one coming, eyes wide. Galamoth had _said_ he wasn't going to kill Aric, but a Mazoku's word was hardly trustworthy even in such a matter. He tensed, unable to even close his eyes as he waited for it to impale him through the torso...

...but then, something happened. Aric wasn't even sure what--one moment, the spear of blackness had been coming, ready to pin him like a bug in an insect-collection. The next, it was as though a strange, red haze had come over his vision, obscuring everything, even blurring the seconds together into an incomprehensible swirl in his mind...and then, he could see again. His cape was free, and even whole again--and Galamoth was sitting on his rump as though knocked back, his own deep green mantle in tatters, though slowly reforming itself.

The Mazoku seemed unharmed, as he pushed himself up to his feet with ease that would have been impossible were he wearing _real_ armor, and oddly enough he even looked somewhat pleased. "I see I was not mistaken..." he murmured thoughtfully, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as a gauntlet lifted to dust off a plate at the chest of his armor (it couldn't very well be called a "breastplate", for it only covered half the upper-chest, with segments of leather armor and chainmail riveted to its fringes). "Excellent show, m'boy." The demon opened his mouth as though to speak again--but suddenly, his eyes widened, and he stole a hasty glance over his shoulder, before returning his attention forward. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other matters to attend. If you can make it out of this town alive, I imagine we'll be meeting up again...in Elmekia." In spite of his tone, Galamoth actually looked as close to "unnerved" as Aric had ever seen him, briefly glancing over his shoulder at something Aric couldn't clearly see.

"_Elmekia?!_" Aric blinked, momentarily distracted. That was all Galamoth really needed. The Mazoku smirked at the sorcerer's disconcerted expression, slowly fading into nothing until only his cape was left, and then that too disappeared. Beyond where he had been, Aric could see a figure running, emerald green cape and long indigo hair flying as the remaining distance was closed.

When the woman came to a stop before him, roughly where Galamoth had been standing, she paused for a moment with her hand over her heart, to catch her breath and glance around for any lingering sign of the demon. "I'm...sorry I was late," she panted out, concerned compassion in her deep indigo eyes, a small worried frown on her face. "I heard the noise, but then it stopped and I couldn't find where it had come from until too late. Are you alright?"

The woman was beautiful, heart-stoppingly so, in a manner that could compete with Ellisia in a subtler, less extravagant manner. Long hair and large, soft eyes, both the same rich and deep shade of indigo-purple, was cut almost militantly straight along her brow and where it fell forward over her shoulders. Aside from her emerald cape, her clothing was all in shades of violet and lavender, trimmed with gold--even the shoulder-adornments that helped hold the cape in place were deep purple, ringed with gilded tassels that swayed gently with even the subtlest movement. In one violet-gloved hand was a priest's rod, its shaft adorned with golden leaf-like filigree, the leaves cradling a large, pale-blue crystal sphere at the very top that was nearly as big as his head.

"Uh...ah, well..." Aric tried to force himself to stop staring, to get his tongue back in gear, and to his credit it took only a brief moment of stammering to answer before she could mistake him as brain-addled. "I'm, ah, I'm fine. Just fine. Really. Um...you?"

She released a small breath of relief, the hand rising to her heart again, before falling to her side. The rod in her other hand seemed to shrink, dwindling to a tiny point and then vanishing into nothingness. "I'm sorry, I should have introduced myself. My name is Sylphiel Nels Lahda. Formerly a shrine maiden of Sairaag..." Her eyes clouded over, for the briefest of moments, but then she shook it off and her small smile returned. "I'm just glad you were able to drive him away. That was a very powerful Mazoku--I could feel it before I even saw him."

"Yeah, well..." Aric murmured, silently wondering something similar himself, "...guess I got lucky." It made him feel a little guilty, almost like lying outright to a shrine maiden, but he strongly doubted that telling her he'd struck a bargain with the Mazoku would earn much in the way of sympathy or aid.

Sylphiel nodded, accepting that at face value, as her eyes lifted as though to scan the rooftops for something. Suddenly, she blinked and took in a gasp, and she hastily reached to take a gentle but firm hold of his elbow. "Quickly," she said, urgent but at the same time composed. "We must leave here. The sun is beginning to set, and this place is...dangerous, at night."

Blinking in bemusement, Aric lifted his own ruby gaze. Sure enough, slowly but inexorably, the sun was making its descent overhead; he hadn't realized that so much time had passed during his walk and subsequent confrontation with Galamoth--and half-suspected that it was in some way the Mazoku's fault.

"Wa-wait!" he protested, as Sylphiel attempted to drag him along down the street. "Wait, I can't just leave...I've got a couple of friends here. If this place is so dangerous I can't just leave them!" Ellisia may have gotten on his nerves, especially lately, but there was still the matter of his...accord with Galamoth. And besides, he couldn't just abandon her and Selaena, even so, not if the matter was so serious that a shrine maiden herself was concerned.

Sylphiel hesitated a moment, apparently torn...but then she gave a brief, decisive nod. "All right. We'll find them, first. Where did you last see them?"

"Market Street. Actually...looking for you, I think," he said, frowning. When the indigo-haired shrine maiden looked briefly confused, he elaborated, "Well, see, we sort of came here looking for a priest of some sort. Or directions to where we might find one. And everybody kept talking about a White Sorceress in town, but nobody knew where, so..."

Sylphiel frowned and nodded, slightly, and then proceeded to lead him down the street. Releasing his arm after a moment, she strode with a confidence that almost seemed unbefitting her demeanor in conversation, though he had difficulty putting his finger on why.

The shrine maiden obviously had a much better working knowledge of the town layout than he, as she lead him along streets he couldn't remember taking. But then, that could have been related to the fact that his head was still spinning. What had...happened back there? He'd been so sure he was dead; there was no way he could have dodged that last spear of Mazoku substance. And yet somehow, he had survived. Not only survived, but blown Galamoth down...and more disturbing still was the fact that the demon had seemed to expect it, had even provoked him for the sheer purpose of eliciting such a response, proving something to himself.

Thus it was that he was scarcely aware when they actually _arrived_ at Market Street, startled to awareness only when Sylphiel came to a sudden stop and spoke. He was still a little dazed, so he had to ask her to repeat herself.

"I asked what your friends look like," she replied patiently, though she cast a wary eye toward the descending sun--which was coming dangerously close to the level of the rooftops.

"Ah..." Hastily, he focused himself again; this woman was as frustratingly distractive as Ell. "Two women. A prissy blonde and a lavender-haired girl with a staff."

The shrine maiden nodded again and began to peer around, as did Aric. Oddly enough, even this place was now nearly devoid of people, save for a few of the shopkeepers lingering behind their stalls. Aric had thought he had simply been entering a sparsely populated part of town, but it seemed that instead there was something...else going on. Unnervingly, all of the merchants still in their booths favored the pair in the middle of the street with an odd, unwavering, unblinking gaze. It was starting to make his skin crawl.

"I don't see them," Sylphiel interrupted his thoughts, for which he was thankful because they were starting to take unpleasant directions under all the odd attention. Nevertheless, he frowned a little.

"Where could those two have gotten off to? Surely this place isn't all that big..."

"We must hurry," Sylphiel insisted, frowning worriedly as she looked around once again. "If we don't find them soon, before the sun sets, then..."

"Well'sir," a gravelly voice drawled, making them both jump and turn, "I'm afraid you're just a mite too late, young lady." It was the melon merchant that had directed them earlier. He was still behind his stall but the melon he'd been examining earlier was now split in two, one half on the counter and the other in one of his hands.

Immaculate as the rind had been, the inside of the melon was revolting. The meat was rotten, looked as though it had been for a long time. Flies buzzed in the air above both halves, and Aric nearly gagged from the smell even where he stood--quite a distance from the stall. As the old merchant reached a wrinkled hand to scoop out a handful and shovel it into his mouth, Aric lurched back a step and fought to retain the contents of his stomach, thankful he hadn't eaten since breakfast at camp this morning. After swallowing the disgusting stuff, the near-toothless old man tipped the half in his hand toward them, his expression mock-genial. "Mm. What a horrible night to have a curse. Melon?"


	11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Sylphiel stood her ground, barely a twinge at the corner of her eye betraying her reaction. Her jaw was set, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed in determination, rather than anger. "Young man..." she addressed him without looking.

"It's Aric," he supplied, in the midst of watching the geezer help himself to more rotten melon with a half-glazed look that wasn't a product of bad old eyes.

"Aric, then," she acknowledged simply. Then she looked sharply over her shoulder, her hair swaying gently with the motion as she nodded. "Run."

"Wha--?" he started, his eyes involuntarily straying up in search of a place to look away. They were just in time to catch the last sliver of sunlight disappearing below the peak of a roof, the rays that had been silhouetting a rooster-shaped weathervane disappearing as though swallowed up by the darkness.

Looking back down, he felt his eyes go wide and round. The old melon merchant had tossed his rotten wares over his shoulder, and was even then in the middle of crawling over the wooden planks that served as his counter, strangely spider-like. His joints creaked and popped as he moved, and even as Aric watched, his thinning hair began to fall from his head. First one eye, and then the other rolled listlessly out of their sockets, striking the ground and decomposing on contact. As he looked around, he saw that not just the remaining merchants, but all the remaining _townsfolk_ were undergoing the same change; window shutters were clapping open as decaying men, women and even children crawled out of the windows and down the walls like insects, doors could be heard unlatching or simply being hammered off their hinges. Aric swallowed, hard, slowly tensing and half-bending his knees again.

Zombies.

Mazoku pets, usually, though humans could also use the Black Magic that caused the process. It was usually only a Mazoku tactic, though, for only the most vile and evil of humans would inflict the horror of living death upon another soul, let alone a large population such as this. Mazoku, of course, _fed_ on the suffering, woe and anguish of such tortured souls, as surely as they did on fear and hate and all the other most negative emotions of material creatures.

"Run!" Sylphiel repeated, more firmly, as she stood her ground and brought her rod from thin air once again. "Find your friends!" Aric hesitated, frowning. Ell and Selaena were still somewhere in the middle of all this, and he really needed to find them, but...

"You're joking, right? _Freeze Arrow!_" Lifting his hands cupped together and drawing them apart, he released a swarm-burst of frozen projectiles, which sailed neatly past the White Sorceress and caught the undead merchant square in the chest and shoulders. Being undead already, the ice itself barely phased him--but it weighed him down, and since rotting and unresponsive muscles were hard enough to move already, it was significant. "I still need your help! I can't find them and get out on my own, and neither can you!"

Sylphiel simply watched him, for a moment, as he glanced warily about for the next closest shuffling creature...and then reluctantly nodded. "Right, then. If you can keep them away, I will search for any other sources of life in this place. But..." He glanced over his shoulder at her when she hesitated, and when he frowned a touch impatiently she went on. "...try not to kill any of them unless you have to. These poor creatures are still people, and killing them will only redouble their torment before they rise again." Sinking to her knees, she lifted her rod up...and released it in midair, the stone at its head beginning to glow as it hovered between the spread fingers of her two hands.

He reluctantly acknowledged that, but while many of the spells he knew were non-lethal, they were also not very practical for crowd-control of many dozen shuffling corpses out to kill you. Still, he resolved to do his best, and that he did, even as the legion of dead peasants began to close in on them in a slow but ever-encroaching circle.

At first, it was a simple enough matter. He slowed as many as he readily could with Freeze Arrows and low-power Freeze Brids. When one or two creatures came too close, he pushed them back with various Wind spells (Largely Diem Win and Bomb Di Win). Occasionally, when one slipped by him he would send it on a flying trip with a Dill Brand spell. But the sheer numbers were overwhelming, and it wouldn't be long before more drastic measures were needed.

Fortunately, Sylphiel was as good as her word and apparently as skilled as the townsfolk had made her out to be, and so the circle of clear space around them was still significant when she finished her divination. Lowering her hands, she watched the rod balance on its pointed bottom for the briefest second...slowly wobble left, then right, and then left again...and finally fall sharply right. Raising her hand, she pointed in the direction the stone was facing. "That way."

Aric fell over. "You've got to be kidding me," he mumbled as he pushed himself back up. Realizing his mistake, he threw a few hasty air spells about to fling away zombies that had not paused during his moment of comic slapstick. Once they had some breathing room, he narrowed his eyes. "This is going to be a problem. Before we can even go looking for Ell and Selaena we'll have to go through _them_." He gestured encompassingly to the steadily moving tide of undead. "You're going to have to let me blow them up. Otherwise we're stuck."

"No," she insisted, shaking her head with a firm frown. "We can't do that."

"Well, we can't fly," he retorted, a touch irritably. "Even if you know a flying spell, we wouldn't be able to land without coming down right in the middle of them!"

"Just keep them away a few moments longer," she replied, remaining on her knees and clasping her hands, bowing her head prayerfully.

"Now is not the time for religious appeals!" he snapped, bordering on frantic as he began hurling spell after spell once again. His endurance was beginning to wear down--one could only cast repeated back to back spells for so long, unless one perhaps happened to be Lina Inverse or something. "The gods help those who help themselves, you know!"

But Sylphiel was not praying. After only a moment, he recognized the faint echoing tones that signified an incantation, and his eyes slowly went wide.

_"You, who are roaming forever;_

_Pitiful, twisted souls;_

_With our purifying light,_

_Go you far away to the place that lies between the Universes!"_

Large indigo eyes opened, and the White Sorceress' arms lifted high over her head as pure, shining, whiter-than-white Magic power gathered around her hands. Taking in a final deep breath, she drew back as if hefting something incredibly heavy, and then cast her hands in the direction her rod had indicated, Aric diving to the side just in case. _"Megiddo Flare!"_

The bolt of White Magic power lanced from her hands, hurtling right into the thick of the corpses shuffling toward them from that direction. After a point a short distance away, it exploded in a bedazzling blast of whiteness, blinding Aric momentarily even though he shielded his eyes and squeezed his lids shut. When he could see again, he stood in shock.

Where there had been a portion of an army of soulless walking corpses, bent on nothing less than killing, potentially violating and then devouring them (very likely in that same order), was now a field of bodies. Very _human_ bodies, without the grotesquely exaggerated decay and mangling of their zombified selves. Rising to her feet, Sylphiel clasped her hands again and murmured softly, "May your souls now rest in peace; you need your bodies no more."

As Aric continued to watch, wide-eyed, the shrine maiden scooped up her rod in one hand and then took hold of his elbow again with the other, quickly leading him through the wide area that still resonated with White Magic power, keeping the remaining zombies dazed and disoriented. When they finally got their bearings, about half of them fell upon the now very lifeless and soulless bodies, while the remainder decided to forego fighting over an immediate meal in favor of a potential future meal that may or may not be. By that time, however, Aric and Sylphiel were well on their way.

Making headway was possible now that the circle around them was broken, even with zombie villagers continuing to stumble after them--and worse, because of its greater speed, to crawl along the walls and paving stones like great insects--because the undead were limited in their attack range…but Aric was not. Sylphiel just continued to run, perhaps winded from her spell or perhaps simply not knowledgeable in more combative forms of magic, but Aric was still able to hurl spells on the fly, mostly ice spells intended to slow now. As they stumbled upon an intersection, Aric hesitated--but the shrine maiden did not. She immediately tugged him to the left, an Icicle Lance barely grazing the fringe of her cape as he let it fly past her.

Aric allowed himself to be dragged, trusting the White Sorceress' powers of divination to lead them to his companions, and focused himself on preventing the ex-villagers from either catching them or cutting off their escape. There were three or four more intersections in their path, but Sylphiel rounded them unerringly and unhesitantly

_Ell, you'd damn well better be alright after all this..._ Aric found himself thinking, somewhere in the back of his mind, in the midst of hurling another Freeze Brid.

Snarling, teeth bared to expose elongated fangs, Ellisia tore the head off another once pleasant villager and sent it tumbling over her shoulder, pushing the body back into a small crowd of his fellows and knocking them all down. As uncivilized as it was, she had to admit that deep, deep down there was some small (and entirely too human) part of her that was vaguely enjoying the carnage. If Selaena hadn't been around, in fact, she would have probably been able to wade her way right through the center to the inevitable source of all this.

But she couldn't just leave the girl, nor could she dare to approach the thick of these creatures with her in tow. While the White Sorceress had been in something of a state of shock, at first, she had actually recovered admirably. In fact, even as Ell glanced over her shoulder to check on her, pulling a wing out of her line of sight so she could see (for her disguise had long ago been shed when the first townsperson had attacked), the girl wound back and let fly a terrific swing of her staff, the bells on the end jangling as the head made contact with a zombie head and sent the creature toppling to the ground.

The lavender-haired girl was showing significant mercy to the walking corpses, and had urged Ell to do the same...but Ellisia's options were frustratingly limited at this point. All she had was her brute strength, claws and tail and even occasional jet of fiery breath (her hammer was too difficult to grasp properly with these claws, which were sharp enough to pierce even her own hide if she wasn't careful). Normally, when she changed form manually, the half-Dragon form was simply too difficult to maintain while casting spells and she would simply revert. She had reasoned at first that under the circumstances things should be different, but apparently not--she still couldn't cast any working spells. Even if she could, the ones she had focused on studying were made specifically for destroying such creatures, not incapacitating them. Perhaps if Aric were around...

She shook herself in frustration, chiding herself silently. Why was she so quick to rely on that lazy, self-interested half-pint of a human sorcerer? He was probably still sleeping through all of this somewhere. If she ever got her claws on him...

"Hit the deck, ladies!"

_Aric?!_ Without even thinking, Ell threw herself to the ground, hoping Selaena had the good sense to do the same and not question.

_"Megiddo Flare!"_

Ellisia didn't recognize the voice that had shouted this time, other than that it was distinctively female. She knew of the spell, though, and even as it impacted she moved her arms and wings both to cover her head, shielding her eyes from the explosion of pure white power that would expunge the dark power from the magically warped bodies.

She also knew about how long it would take to clear, and when enough time had passed she uncovered her head and pushed herself up to her knees, scanning instantly for Selaena. The girl seemed well, still covering her head until bidden otherwise. Ell tugged gently on one of her sleeves, and the lavender-haired girl hesitantly lifted her head, her braid slipping to fall over her shoulder so the emerald clasp at its tip clinked on the paving stones. Both of them rose to their feet, then, and turned.

"Mister Winterbourne!" Selaena let out a sigh of relief, leaning heavily on her staff, and Ell's tail lashed behind her as she watched Aric and the strange new woman with indigo hair approach.

"What kept you, Aric?" Ell huffed, crossing her arms and shifting her weight from foot to foot. "Overslept?"

"Oh, stow it, Ell," he replied absently, waving off her ire as he gestured to the woman with him. "This is Sylphiel Nels Lahda. She's a shrine maiden, and she's the one who helped me _find_ the two of you in all this mess, so show a little gratitude."

Ell nodded offhandedly, taking a brief glance to measure Sylphiel up against her usual standards (herself, of course). In the back of her mind, she warily filed this woman away as "competition", in the same mental folder as Lhynn.

"A former shrine maiden, actually," Sylphiel said humbly, bowing her head slightly to them as she curled fingers tightly around the rod in her right hand. "I serve no one church now, only the public. Anyway, I'm glad to see you're both...alright." She gave Ell a hesitant glance at this, but politely moved her eyes onward before she could begin to stare. "If I'd known there were other living people here, I would have helped you to leave sooner."

"What...exactly has transgressed, here?" Selaena asked hesitantly, glancing around at the temporarily empty streets with clear trepidation.

"I believe you mean 'transpired', Miss," Sylphiel offered politely.

"That's what I said."

The shrine maiden opened her mouth to speak, bemused, but Aric lifted a hand and shook his head. "Just go ahead and answer. It'll save time for all of us."

Nodding, the indigo-haired woman closed her fingers tighter around the rod, taking her own glance around. Once she saw the others doing the same, she began to speak. "This town has been dead and cursed for a long, long time. No one has left Bordertown since...since the second fall of Sairaag." For a moment, the woman had almost choked--even Ell could tell that--but she had recovered swiftly. "All word from the villagers simply ceased, and the few messengers or others who dared to investigate did not return." She sighed, slowly lowering her gaze for a moment, before returning to scanning for more encroaching undead. "With no Sairaag military to come and investigate this strange breach in communication, and lesser attempts yielding no response, it came to a point where no one dared to attempt. I came suspecting something sinister, and it did not take me long to discover the curse of this place. For some weeks I have remained here, leaving the outskirts of town to camp a safe distance outside at night, and by day returning to perform what good I could for them in their misery. I had hoped that by spreading enough positivity here, I could undo what had been wrought."

"Didn't work, huh?" Ell blandly stated the obvious for the record.

Sylphiel shook her head. "The villagers already exude an air of pleasantry and kindliness, to lure in those who would pass through and encourage them to stay at least until nightfall. Then, when the sun sets..." She needed little more than to gesture about with one arm, for even the buildings seemed to reflect the condition of the people. Shutters hung limp, their hinges having rusted to nothing; glass in windows that had been pristine but an hour or two ago was shattered, thick tangled cobwebs filling in the space between the rotten wood that separated the panes. Bricks that composed buildings were crumbling, powder flaking off them at the slightest touch, and the paving stones underfoot were worn and cracked, greenery growing up through the gaps.

"It makes sense," Selaena murmured, clutching her staff closer to herself. "Mazoku are only harmed by cheerful, positronic energy when it's genuine. If the people really are suffering inside, under all the altitudes of good cheer, it would still feed them...while, at the same time, luring in more victims."

Sylphiel started to correct the girl even as she shuddered slightly, but Aric interrupted this time before the shrine maiden could waste her breath. "Okay, okay, so we know the haunted village's ghost-story now. What're we gonna do about it? I vote we just blast our way out and put this place behind us."

"You would," Ell retorted, dark eyes narrowing. The lingering positive energy from the spell wouldn't keep the undead at bay for much longer--in fact, they _should_ already be starting to close in again. Since there were none in sight, that meant something was wrong. "But we can't, can we?" She looked back and forth between the two present White Sorceresses, who both shook their heads firmly. "No...of course not." The half-Dragon sighed wearily, trying to fleck lingering ichor from her claws in a safe direction. "Hey, Aric, let me borrow your cape."

"Uh, sure thi--wait, no!"

"Wimp."

"Bi--"

"_Please_," Sylphiel asserted, sparing each of them an admonishing look over her shoulders. They lapsed into quiet, however reluctantly, and she nodded in satisfaction. "I may know of something to do, but I will need your help. May I ask the three of you to--"

"Assertively!" Selaena spoke up before either of the other two could, the bells of her staff chiming distinctively in the silence as she tapped the butt of it on the paving-stones underfoot. "Tell us what to do."

Aric and Ell exchanged a glance, but there was no help for it. It wasn't as though they would have said "no", anyway. Probably. Maybe.

The shrine maiden permitted a small sigh of relief. "We must act quickly before they attack again. I fear something suspicious in this sudden quiet."

"Like they're falling back to build up their numbers again," Aric started, dubiously, "or..."

"Like they're about to spring a trap," Ellisia concluded, tiredly. Even as the words left her mouth, paving-stones began to shatter and fly up all around, corpse-people bursting right out of the street in their midst, and all around. Without so much as a word, Sylphiel flung a hand up and a narrow white ray of light burst from her palm, striking an invisible point in the air some distance from the group and spreading into a dome of pure white around them, barring entry from the legions outside the defined circle. Those within, Ellisia tore into with a vengeance, Selaena contributing with her staff and Aric hurling spells at those not currently occupied by them.

They managed to dispatch the creatures inside the Protection Barrier (the fact that this Sylphiel was able to cast such a spell so soon after at least one Megiddo Flare, with barely a sign of fatigue, did manage to impress Ell...however grudgingly) in relatively short order, though with the barrier in place the only recourse had been to kill them in spite of the White Sorceresses' protests. It wouldn't be a permanent death, but it would buy time.

"Now what do we do?" Aric asked tersely, tugging his gloves tighter down over his fingers. "We don't have much time."

"I'll need a high place, easy to defend," the shrine maiden began without hesitation, clutching her rod tightly. "And I'll need the three of you to buy as much time as you can. I'm going to cast a large spell, but the incantation is very long, and even the slightest distraction will force me to begin again."

While Aric simply nodded, Ell and Selaena both blinked...then looked at Sylphiel with wide eyes. "You're not going to try a--" Selaena started.

Sylphiel simply nodded, her expression set with determination. The two women exchanged a glance while Aric looked baffled, but there didn't seem to be much choice. "The town hall should be good," Ell said with a frown, after thinking over some of the structures they had passed earlier. "The roof is sloped, so it'll be easier to knock them off. The only problem is it'll be trickier to maintain _our_ footing as well."

"But at least two of us can fly," Aric supplied with a smirk, rubbing his gloved hands together. "I'll carry Sylphiel up; Ell, you carry Selaena."

Ell spared a brief moment to look back and forth between the two White Magic users. Then, frowning, she crossed purposefully over to Aric and bashed him one across the back of the head, sending him face-first to the street. "_I'll_ carry Sylphiel and _you_ carry Selaena," she corrected loftily, as he lay twitching on the ground. "And mind where you put your hands when you do."

An identical bead of sweat rolled down each purplish-haired woman's temple, and Sylphiel additionally lifted up a finger, with an awkward little laugh. "That's really okay. I can Levitate, myself."

It was Ellisia's turn to smirk, as Aric stood and dusted himself off. "All right, then," she proclaimed, in the same lofty tone. "I'll carry Selaena, and the two of you can fly yourselves up."

Aric took a moment to grumble self-pityingly to himself. Then the three positioned themselves in preparation, Ell standing behind Selaena with hands under the somewhat mousy woman's arms, Aric and Sylphiel on either side and tensed in preparation. On a three-count, Sylphiel let the barrier drop, and all three launched themselves skyward in their respective manners.

Aric shot ahead, his Raywing bubble flickering barely-perceptibly around him, and upon reaching the rooftop in question he angled down to dive-bomb the corpses who had already crawled up in anticipation of their plans. While he couldn't hurl any spells and still maintain enough concentration for a Raywing flight spell, the shield-bubble of wind itself made an effective weapon in the right circumstances, especially since it deflected low-level offensive spells. And zombies, as the case may be.

Thus it was that by the time Ell flapped the distance (to the discontent of a rather queasy Selaena) and Sylphiel glided to join them, the rooftop was nice and clear to set down. Sylphiel took place as close to the center of the roof as she could manage, knees placed on either side of the corner in the middle that divided the sloping sides and hands clasped prayerfully. Aric, Ell and Selaena moved to occupy triangle points surrounding her, readying various methods of combat.

"Something just occurred to me," Ellisia said with a frown, as they waited for the first legions to start working their way in. "With all these zombies around, shouldn't there be a Mazoku somewhere nearby responsible for all this? Feeding on them?"

"Ah, I dunno," Aric replied--a little hastily, she couldn't help but notice. "I doubt we'll have to worry too much about that."

"I confer," Selaena put in, casting doubts on Ell's brief moment of suspicion, hefting her staff horizontally across her body. "For the moment we will be too busy with intermediate matters."

"I think you mean..." Ell started, but then shook her head and rolled her eyes, giving it up.

"She's got a point," Aric acknowledged, somewhat gratefully. "Zombies now, powerful demonic entities later."

Laughter from above startled all three of them, jerking their eyes up and away from their thus far fruitless lookout duty. Cold, quiet, but mocking feminine laughter, much more impressive than Emilio's usual trite sound of melodramatic amusement. The laughter trailed off as the three spied a figure floating high above, at first little more than an indistinct spot of darkness against the moon, but it began to descend even as they watched. "I beg to differ," the speaker announced in a soft voice that nevertheless carried clearly through the night air, gazing down at them from above. "In fact, I'm quite insulted you would disregard me to dance with my puppets."

It was an unmistakable introduction, and one that needed confirmation by none of them.

"Y'know what?" Aric blurted, suddenly, startling the other two women as he curled a fist up at his side. "To hell with this! I'm sick of it! You wanna fight, lady? You've got it!" Turning to Ell and Selaena in turn, he gave them each an intense look. "Can you two keep Sylphiel safe long enough?"

Ell was dubious, but Selaena instantly nodded. "Absolvently!"

"Right." He reached down to his belt, causing Ellisia to blink in confusion for a moment when he retrieved a simple brown flask and popped the top off with his teeth. It startled her even more when he flung it in a wide arc, sending its clear contents spraying out. Water? Then, however, he reached his empty hand out with fingers spread, and his voice took on a sudden echo. _"Dolf Zoke!_"

The droplets of flying water froze where they hung in midair, seized by invisible tendrils of Black Magic power she could feel in her bones, and drew together as though compelled by gravity. They adhered, expanding into an oblong, amorphous blob of water floating in midair, and then began to define into sharp edges leading up to a tapered point and down to a rounded grip. Aric closed his fingers around the grip once it was relatively solidified, and as he dropped the flask he held in his hand a blade of solid water. Then, lifting his empty hand above his head, he snapped his fingers. "Levitation!" Lofting skyward, he floated slowly to confront this new antagonist. Selaena and Ell exchanged another glance. There was a moment of silence.

"I didn't know he could Levitate," Selaena said.

Ellisia fell over.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

Aric allowed himself to slowly drift upward until he was floating level with the Mazoku, Dolf Zoke blade in one hand and formless Astral-Shamanistic power flickering around the other. Once the blade itself was formed, maintaining it didn't require a great deal of power and concentration--it was initially wresting the power of one of the Five Subordinates of Shabranigdo under his command that required the most effort. In truth, the spell was normally meant to be thrown upon formation, but in spite of his usual philosophy Aric was not unaware of the virtues of melee weaponry, and a "weapon" the likes of this was easier to keep track of than a typical sword--and was capable of harming some Mazoku, while at the same time not being a target of theft or confiscation. Thus had been born his judicious modification--hardly a feat of magical genius, but one he was rather proud of nevertheless.

Like Galamoth, the Mazoku he came to face within moments was deceptively human in appearance, with flowing green hair and outlandish clothing that suspiciously resembled an adventuring sorceress--complete with somewhat oversized black shoulder guards holding a flowing violet cape in place. In terms of color, if not style, her attire was the negative of Sylphiel's; the shirt, leggings, gloves and boots in varying shades of greens, while her flowing mantle seemed to shift into different hues of purple as it fluttered in the breeze. Even her shoulder-length hair was a deep, lime-green, though it was cut less severely than the shrine maiden's, bangs hanging a little lower over one eye than the other. Her most noteworthy feature was her blindfold, however, which looked to be of the same "material" as her cape and shielded her eyes from view. Nevertheless, she faced him perfectly, as though utterly unhindered. Likely that was the truth, since Mazoku "clothing" was a part of their Astral substance anyway.

"Who are you?" he demanded, brandishing his water-sword in her direction and drawing the magic-charged hand back.

"You don't know by now?" She was oddly softspoken, her hands demurely folded in front of her, though the corner of her mouth curled with the tiniest bit of faintly-malicious amusement. "How disappointing. You wound me. But you'll know, soon enough." For a moment, he thought that was all she would offer and he tensed in preparation...but then she startled him, lifting a cupped hand palm-up in a gesture of offering. "For now, a name." A tiny curl of black flame appeared in her cupped palm, dancing, flickering, drawing in what little light was present from the new-risen moon. "Merlya."

Suddenly, the black flame in her hand flared up, spreading outward to either side to form an amorphous shaft of dark fire. Aric darted backward, bringing his weapon defensively to bear as the Mazoku substance congealed into a solid form in Merlya's now closed fingers. It appeared to be a kind of staff weapon--though perhaps a spear was a more accurate term, since either end of the shaft was surmounted by a wicked golden blade. A single back-curved fin extended from each spear-head, sweeping back toward the center on opposite sides of the polished black length like miniature scythe blades. A spiral of gold braced the black material between the two spearheads, connecting them and providing better grip.

Merlya twirled the staff-weapon in her hand, bringing it around behind her as her empty palm faced him. "Since you came so boldly to face me alone, I will even fight you on your own level, as a warrior. For what it is worth to you, you have my word there will be no powers other than flight. We Mazoku_ do_ keep our word, when it suits us."

"We'll see..." Aric murmured, but for the time being he let his Astral spell flicker out and instead took a two-handed grip on the blade. He had no delusions that this Mazoku's word was any more binding than her supposed "blindness"--and that apparent handicap, itself, was nothing he was about to rely on, though he admitted to curiosity about that particular personality quirk, as characteristic as Galamoth's strange choice of a "warrior" aspect.

Proving that her blindfold was largely for show, Merlya even attacked first. Darting through the air easily as a firefly, she twirled her spear-weapon at him in a very direct sort of strike, no guile nor trickery to the swing. She seemed true to her word, and she even recoiled when he deflected the swing with his magically-formed water blade. Taking his cue, Aric slipped through the air to pursue, slashing downward with both hands. Aric seldom used this spell, and was by no means the swordsman Emilio was (personality quirks aside, Aric could not deny his would-be nemesis' skill), but he wasn't quite an amateur either. His middling sword-skills would hardly last against a masterful sword wielder, but hopefully the different combative styles of the moment would give him half a chance of victory. And of course, when the Mazoku inevitably broke her word and began hurling black power at him, he could take the fight to his own medium of choice.

But, stranger and stranger, Merlya seemed to be honoring her informal pledge, catching his stroke on the shaft of her weapon and holding it at bay with the same, tiny smirk curled at the corner of her mouth. Aric struggled to ignore the building sounds of combat below, fought to keep himself from worrying over the fates of his companions, for he knew the demon would only prey upon such a moment of weakness as a doorway to a feeding fest. He could worry later, after he had taken care of this.

Pushing him away, Merlya jabbed at his middle with one of her weapon's points, and even when he batted the swing away she simply reversed the ends and jabbed a second time. That one came entirely too close, grazing a tear in the fabric of his beige shirt, though thankfully not his stomach when he spun away from it. Taking the opening, he made a thrust of his own--and came just shy of impaling the Mazoku's collarbone, the shaft of her implement rising just fast enough to push his blade upward. It impacted the black "metal" of her shoulder guard, rebounding off and jarring his arm painfully...but he could see the notch in the shoulder armor, tiny sparks of blackness flickering about it before it smoothed itself over. Even such miniscule damage was a sign that his spell _could_ have some effect.

Floating backward a short distance, Merlya began to laugh softly. "Mm...It's been awhile since I've had this much fun. Perhaps Galamoth is right to have such an interest in you."

"What do you know about Galamoth?" Aric demanded, backing off as well, trying to buy time so he could catch his breath--and hopefully fish out a few answers, as well.

"Aside from the fact that he's an ambitious fool, not much," the Mazoku admitted with a shrug, her demeanor suddenly slipping from combative to quietly conversational again. "Mazoku are not Dragons, little human. For the most part, we are not close-knit and unified. Even the Subordinates of Lord Ruby-Eyes are not above sabotaging one another, when not in His dread sight."

"...fine, then," he muttered, fighting back his disappointment. "Then what do you want with me? You had no obligation to fight fairly."

"Of course not," she replied offhandedly, the small smile flowing across the length of her bow-like mouth this time, still bearing that faint hint of superior malice that contradicted her soft tone. "What do I want? The answer is simple, little human, and I have no reason to lie. What I want...is to provoke a reaction."

Aric blinked, for a moment. Something was wrong, suddenly. She had shifted position, ever so subtly, during that last sentence...and it wasn't until precious seconds later that the pain caught up with him, forcing him to look down.

Moving in the space of a literal eye-blink for him, The shaft of her spear-weapon had pierced through his left shoulder, dangerously close to the heart. His eyes went wide, and he wobbled just a little as his Dolf Zoke spell fizzled. The water-blade lost its cohesion, and subsequently its form, falling as an oblong mass to splat against the rooftop far below. The only things holding him aloft were the tattered remains of his Levitation spell and Merlya's unorthodox weapon. Dimly, from below, he heard what he could have sworn was Ellisia's voice, crying his name with mingled shock and disbelief.

His own voice failed him, at first. At least, until the Mazoku twisted her weapon, which brought forth a sharp yelp of pain. She seemed faintly irritated when nothing further happened, and twisted again. "It seems Galamoth was wrong," she murmured, when all that she elicited was another sharp, brief cry.

But then it happened again. Stark, blinding crimson flooded his gaze, time and space bending and blurring into an incomprehensible mishmash of reality. It was an eternity and at the same time only a heartbeat before it was over and he could see again...and somehow, the circumstances had reversed. His shoulder was whole and new, even his clothing untouched, and his own hands were closed around the shaft of the spear...whose opposing head was lodged quite firmly into Merlya's own shoulder, right through the half-shattered guard plate. He couldn't see her eyes through the blindfold, but her mouth was agape and her fingers were limp over the weapon. It dissolved from her grasp, but strangely left her shoulder punctured, and she lifted an emerald-gloved hand to staunch the flow of inhumanly dark blood as she floated back.

After a moment, though, her shock turned to a little smirk again. "...perhaps Galamoth isn't such a fool, after all." Then, her head tilted slightly, cocking an ear toward the ground. "But I think it's time for me to leave. I'll see you again, ruby-eyes..." With only a slight shimmer, like a mirage, she was abruptly gone as though she had never been. Struggling mightily, Aric regained control of his Levitation spell...but this took most of the force of his will, and as he slowly looked down he felt his eyes going wide.

The circle of clear rooftop around his friends below was distressingly small, Ellisia and Selaena fighting for all they were worth to knock undead villagers back and send them sliding down off the roof...but Sylphiel had raised her hands high over her head, and even Aric could feel the intangible White Magic power gathering around them. Even from this far above, he could hear her voice lifted, ringing like chapel bells as it echoed across the city.

_"Holy Bless!"_

Whiteness exploded from the center of the rooftop, expanding out in a flash, covering ground at an exponential rate. Aric could only stare in awe, until whiteness enveloped his vision...

Ellisia was the first to meet him on the street, bounding down off the rooftop in a single, effortless drop and sprinting across the distance, while the two White sorceresses above kneeled and spoke their prayers for the dead. Sylphiel's last spell, amazingly enough, hadn't even left the bodies; the wretched undead had simply been swept away, dissolving into nothingness under the power of her holy magic.

(Author's Note: In other words, a cheap device to avoid having to contrive a way for four people to bury hundreds of dead bodies _or_ leave them to rot. Shameful, yes. Lazy, yes.)

The half-Dragon was clearly winded as she stumbled to a stop, panting for breath, and her clothes were stained with ichor from the rather savage manner of combat to which this form of hers was suited. It had clearly been a long, hard fight, especially without her magic to rely on. But, instantly, the first thing she did was reach for his previously impaled shoulder, dark eyes staring dumbfounded at the whole and unstained fabric. Claws fumbled with the folds of his cape and the material of his shirt, as though seeking some hole that he had attempted to cover up, and then she looked up at him in confusion. "Aric? I thought...I could have sworn..."

He frowned just a little, at this uncharacteristic side of her, and his hands lifted to carefully pry her scaled ones from him before she could accidentally scratch him with her claws. "I'm fine, Ell. You must have, ah...just seen things from an odd angle. She never touched me." It wasn't...entirely untrue, some part of him was sure. Whatever had happened, it was as if she had never struck him. He couldn't feel any pain in the place she had stabbed, not even a lingering itch or tingle that even White Magic couldn't wholly eliminate. "Did you guys do okay?"

"Uh...yeah," she murmured, disconcerted, stepping back and folding her arms to grasp her elbows. "Yeah, everything went fine." A small smirk stole its way onto her face, and she lifted a golden hand to primp at her hair. "What else did you expect?" Unfortunately, her claws ended up getting tangled in her hair, and she flinched as she struggled to free them without causing herself more pain, glaring at the traitorous extremities. This form was getting more and more problematic, Aric couldn't help noticing--but hopefully, now they finally had the solution to it at hand. Still...

"Ell, we should probably wait and let Sylphiel rest before we ask her to fix your curse," he said, couching his words carefully. "She's been doing a lot of heavy magic tonight, and we owe her at least that much. Especially since we're still broke."

"I suppose..." the half-Dragon girl said, a little reluctantly, but she did at least nod acquiescence.

In short order, Sylphiel helped Selaena down from the rooftop. Both White Sorceresses were unharmed as well (thankfully, zombies didn't really have much in the way of attack methods except "grab and bite", so fighting them tended to be more messy than bloody unless one became overwhelmed, at which point it was more or less over anyway), and while weary, Sylphiel was more than happy to lead them out of town and to her campsite in the woods. None of them was eager to spend the night in an abandoned inn where undead villagers had been previously crawling, magical purification or otherwise. Some things simply didn't escape the subconscious mind.

At said camp, all four of them were too exhausted to do much more than curl up in their respective cloaks and sleep, none of them with much of an appetite to speak of, nor the energy to eat even if they had. Thus the next morning, breakfast was large (at least, as campfire fare goes), served by Sylphiel herself and startlingly sumptuous for a simple stew. They discussed as they ate, Aric and his two companions keeping their story short and concise...and careful to omit certain details, like being chased out of Atlass City by the militia, and the apparent significance of these three Artifacts they sought. The latter was easy, since they themselves barely comprehended it--Ellisia's guess was the closest any of them could come to, and seemed the most likely assumption (especially since the half-Dragon all but refused to accept any other), but in spite of Selaena's reluctance they omitted that as well. Sylphiel seemed a kind sort, and unlikely to become an outright enemy herself, but even knowing could be dangerous.

"And you say this..." Sylphiel gestured hesitantly to Ell, trying not to be rude, "happened when she donned the armor you speak of?"

Aric nodded slightly, as not to disrupt his consumption of the stew he had been served. It was times like this when he felt he came closest to emulating a certain red-headed sorceress' legendary appetite, and it was a good feeling in spite of his knowledge that he was in truth nowhere close. "I mean...it's normal enough, because she _can_ change herself at will, but now she can't change back and can't remove the armor." Forcing himself to pull away from the meal, he exchanged a glance with each of his two companions...then, slowly, looked back to the shrine maiden and asked the fateful question.

"Can you help her?" If anyone could, there was little doubt that it would be this woman. Her power and control of White Magic rivaled that of many a high priest, in history texts and fanciful ones alike.

Sylphiel Nels Lahda chewed on that for a few moments, sat back and mulled over it, digested it...and then began to ponder in earnest. Finally, at long last, she took a deep breath...and let it out with a hesitant nod. "I...I think so. I can't promise any definite results, but I will do the best I can."

The three traveling companions exchanged a glance and a small sigh of relief, before turning back to Sylphiel. "When can you start?"

The sun was over quite some distance, and in spite of the shade and relative cool of the forested campsite Sylphiel lifted a gloved hand to wipe perspiration from her brow as she sat back again. Frustration abounded on all sides, though more muted with the two White Sorceresses, and none so pronounced as Ell's own. She sat with her legs crossed, in what had begun as a meditative pose. Now, however, her fingers were curled tightly around her ankles, her shoulders hunched and wings arched aggressively. Her tail lashed irately behind her, scattering dead leaves and broken twigs and the like, and she was grinding her teeth audibly.

"You can do a big spell like Holy Bless, powerful enough to wipe out all the spooks in an entire town..." she began with deceptive quiet, her tone faux-conversational, "...but you can't remove this stupid curse? What kind of shrine maiden _are_ you?!"

"Ell!" Aric started to reach for Selaena's staff with which to bonk his friend on the head, but then thought better of it and instead settled for using a nearby stick from the firewood pile. "She's been trying all day. It's not her fault." Selaena nodded emphatically, looking as though he had only just beaten her to chastising the half-Dragon. That in itself surprised him somewhat--she seemed to distinctly look up to this wandering White Sorceress, though, perhaps as an ideal considering their similar personalities and styles of magic.

Ellisia sighed, raising her hands to her temples, before lifting her black eyes again. "I know, I know...I'm sorry, Sylphiel. Thanks for trying..."

Sylphiel had only just caught her breath again, and she bowed apologetically (as best she could from a seated position). "I'm very sorry. Some curses can't be broken by a generic spell, no matter how much power is invested in it. Sometimes the only way to reverse it is very specific--but no curse is ever irreversible, and that is something you should never forget."

Aric and Ell exchanged a hesitant, thoughtful glance...then returned their attention to Sylphiel, and all three companions nodded.

Then, suddenly, Aric pushed himself to his feet. As the three women turned to look at him, he took a moment to bow respectfully to the shrine maiden. "Thank you for all your help, Sylphiel Nels Lahda. Without you we would have all died, or worse." Getting a glimmer of where he was going, Ellisia slowly pushed herself up to her feet and strode to begin donning her retrieved disguise. Selaena was last, using her staff as a crutch as always. "I wish there was some way we ccould repay you for everything you've done."

Sylphiel smiled a little, nodding slightly in return from where she sat. "I'm glad I could do as much as I did. I'm only sorry that I couldn't remove your curse for you, but I know you'll find a way somehow." She remained seated, making herself quite comfortable.

"We'd love to stay for lunch, but we should really go," he continued, shifting to a more casual stance. "Sooner we start looking, sooner we'll find a way to uncurse Ell, right? Will you be okay on your own?"

The indigo-haired shrine maiden nodded, smiling appreciatively. "I'll be fine. Because of the local curse, robbers and bandits vacated this area long ago. Thank you for your concern, and good luck. Perhaps we'll meet again."

Aric nodded, looking to make sure his friends were ready. They nodded in turn, first to Sylphiel and then to him. Final goodbyes were exchanged, along with further pleasantries, and the three travelers set off again.

"May I ask why we vindicated so early?" Selaena asked over the soft, rhythmic chime of her staff's bells, which sounded every time it struck the ground among their footsteps.

"You mean 'vacated', right?" Ell asked.

"That's what I said."

"Right. Well, if even a priestess can't uncurse me, then that must mean that the key to reversing the curse must lie with something more specific."

"Yes?" Selaena frowned, trying to piece it together.

Aric took up the torch. "You've seen how the Staff and Armor react together, right?" A nod. "Well, there's still one piece missing."

The light clicked on. "Of course! Why didn't I surprise it _myself_?"

"Surmise?"

"That's what I said."

Aric groaned.

"It makes perfect sense," Selaena went on, oblivious. "Even if unifying the three Artifacts won't disconcert the curse, perhaps the runes themselves contain some salutation that might provide a key to restoring Ellisia to normalcy."

"Is 'normalcy' a word?" Aric whispered in an aside to Ell.

"Who knows? I'm willing to bet it wouldn't be the only word she'd made up."


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

That night, Aric had a dream.

The very fact that this is noteworthy enough to mention signifies that it was not a normal dream. Normal dreams about snorkel-wearing bats swimming in cheese sauce and whatnot are never mentioned in narrative, simply because in spite of their surreality, they are still only meaningless dreams.

In Aric's dream, he strode through a dim, seemingly endless Great Hall, the plush red carpet soundless even under his booted feet, wall-sconces to either side illuminated not with torch flames, but with the soft artificial glow of countless Lighting spells. The ceiling was so high that it seemed to stretch off into eternity, far beyond the limited range of the mage-globes, and even the opposite end of the Great Hall was shrouded in darkness. Nevertheless, he walked tirelessly, like a golem automaton following a set of precise instructions.

After what seemed an eternity, he came to a stop before a pair of great standing doors, each door carved with the crest of a stylized eye. Raising his hands on instinct, he grasped the brass handles and pulled. The doors opened effortlessly, as though Ellisia herself had opened them, and he swept into the room as though it belonged to him. He felt no surprise when they swung closed behind him on their own, as though that had been his very intention from the beginning.

This chamber too was shrouded in darkness, the furthest walls and ceiling imperceptible to his eyes. All he could see was the red carpet itself, outlined by more magical lights set into the floor at regular intervals. They lead all the way to the opposite end of the room, stopping at the base of an upraised dais. The carpet itself continued onward, up the steps and beneath the legs of a throne.

The throne itself was black, darker than Ellisia's eyes, its contours gnarled and horned, rubies set into the eyes of snarling beast-heads at the end of each arm. However, before he could take further note of it than that, his dreaming mind belatedly realized that there was a figure sitting in it.

Pale white legs, stark against the black...material...of the throne, were crossed indolently at the knees. Below, they gave way to mottled gray wolf's-hide boots, bound together in a rather roughshod manner with some form of black leathery twine. Above, they terminated at the hem of a gray-furred wolf's hide tunic, snugged close at the waist with a belt of the same.

The sword propped against the arm of the throne, nestled in the crook of the lounging figure's arm, cinched the image. Black as the chair itself, with faintly glowing scarlet runes etched in parallel lines on either side of the fuller, it was entirely too familiar.

"_Lhynn_?!" he blurted, shattering the quiet and mysterious atmosphere of the dream entirely.

Emilio's recently acquired partner smirked, shifting her weight in her seat and arching a dark eyebrow. "You remember me. I'm touched. Flattered. Humbled, and whatnot."

He frowned, crossing his arms and taking on a more confident pose. Damned if he was going to let some figment of his own imagination have the upper-hand. "So you _can_ talk. Well, at least, in my subconscious."

"Now, now, does this voice _really_ sound familiar to you?" she asked, sitting up straighter in the throne. "The normally dreaming mind can only work with ideas, images and sounds that it has already experienced before, you know. You can't imagine something with no prior experience to base it on, no matter how outlandish it is."

His frown grew a bit, his fingers flexing slightly within his gloves. "Alright, alright, so this is another one of those dumb 'plot exposition' dreams. Can we just get on with it? I'm really, really tired."

Lhynn rolled her eyes, shifting her sword a bit so that its point scraped lightly over the stones of the dais. "Emilio is right about one thing. You have no sense of drama."

"Makes life easier. But still, I've gotta ask one question."

"Yes?"

"Why do you follow that moron around? And for that matter, why so quiet all the time while you do? You're sure being talky enough right now."

"That's two questions. But since I'm such a magnanimous soul, I'll answer them both. Last one first. To be frank with you? I can only talk here, in this place. One of the few powers She left to me. An idle whim, I suppose, the same as most everything She does."

Bemusement flooded his expression, but before he could question the raven-haired swordswoman went on.

"As for the other...you could say I owe Emilio Van Strahd. What say we just leave it at that?" Suddenly, she smirked, and her tone changed subtly. "I see your eyes straying, Aric Winterbourne..." He jumped a little, jerking his eyes back to hers. But she only shook her head in amusement, tapping her long fingernails against the ruby chips he had been gazing at on the armrest of the chair. "You want this...don't you?"

"I...don't know what you're talking about," he said, forcing his eyes to remain on her mottled gray ones. She could see right through the lie, and he knew it.

"It's yours by right. But they don't want you to have it, none of them. The Dynast secretly covets it for himself, you know. They all do, all but one. But the Dynast is the most ambitious, the most ruthless. The most likely to take it. And they'll try to use you to get at it."

"What are you babbling about?" he demanded, with an aggressive step toward the dais.

"They'll try to use you to get at it," Lhynn repeated, smirking all the more at his ire. "And then they'll kill you once they have it. Oh, they say they have the truest of intentions, loyal to their cause to the end. But in the end, 'their' cause is all relative. And if you don't take it first, one of them will."

"I don't even want it!" he burst forth, glaring, dimly aware of a faint reddish haze beginning to tint his peripheral vision. He only realized what he had said after the fact, and it left him blinking in confusion that doused his anger, and with it the red fog.

"That's true," the swordswoman conceded, her smile turning rueful as her fingers continued to play over the stylized head at the end of the throne's arm. "But it's you or them. Weigh your priorities, Aric. Which is worth more? Your principles, or your life?" She was silent for a moment, and then amusement overtook her again as she rose gracefully from the throne. "It's an ill fit for me. I think it would be better suited for you." She gestured grandly to the plush ruby-satin cushioning, the high back whose gnarled horns oddly seemed actually formed to support a figure about his dimensions.

Involuntarily, he felt himself take a step forward, compelled toward the inviting empty seat. He pulled himself away by sheer force of will, whirling toward Lhynn's new position with clenched fists. "What is this place?!" It was his turn to gesture, sweepingly, encompassing the whole of the chamber and beyond. "Where are we?"

"This place?" She crossed her arms, the grip of her sword nestled against her side. "It's a metaphor. None of this is literal, child. You'll have to figure out what it means for yourself." She shrugged, as though it were a matter of profound indifference to her. "You'll learn, sooner or later. And then you'll accept it. Or you'll die. Or even both. Such is life for your lot."

"Wh...?"

"Aric..."

He jumped, whirling, and behind him stood the last person he had expected to see. Behind him, halfway between himself and the double doors, stood Ellisia. She was human-looking, once again, and dressed in the clothes she had worn when he met her. Her dark eyes were wide, her mouth agape as if he had grown a third arm. No...after a moment, he realized this expression was different. This was something else entirely. Horror, mingled with disbelief and a more than significant touch of betrayal. Slowly, gloved hands lifted to her mouth and she stepped back away from him. "Aric..what have you done...?"

"E-Ell...?" He tried to step toward her, a hand reaching out to stop her, but that only made her back away faster. "Ell, wait!"

She stumbled back until she fell to her bottom with a little "oof", but continued to edge away from him in terror. Looking over his shoulder, he sought out Lhynn with confusion, but she only stood with arms crossed and expression neutral, observing. He turned back to Ellisia, appealing to her again. "Ell, it's _me_! What are you doing?"

She shook her head, now absolutely silent with shock as though she faced Shabranigdo himself. Finally, she managed to choke out words. "Aric...your eyes..." It was only when she said this that he realized it was returning, that reddish haze at the corners of his vision. Only it was stronger this time, spreading until it consumed the entirety of his vision. "Aric? ..._Aric!!_"

- - -

"_Aric!! _ Aric, wake up, you lazy buffoon!"

"Gwmph!!" he spluttered, as a very cold splash of water struck him in the face. He flailed mindlessly for a moment, thrashing at his soaked white cape he had curled up in to sleep, before finally rolling onto his back and getting it open. Planting his hands to either side of him and half-pushing himself up, he glared belligerently up at Ellisia. "What's the big idea?!"

The half-Dragon stood without her disguise for the moment, a look of faint irritation on her face and Selaena's water flask in her hand. Passing the flask back to its owner, she slowly crossed her arms under her chest. "I've never seen a human sleep as much or as deeply as you do. It's a wonder you get _anything_ done."

"I get plenty done after a good night's sleep," he grunted, wrestling his sodden gloves off in order to rub his bleary eyes.

"It's nearly _noon!_" Ell almost snarled, jabbing a finger almost accusingly at the sun overhead, though the fire in her black eyes was directed at him. "Now would you get up so we can figure out where we're going, and then finally get moving?"

"We're going to Elmekia," Aric said instantly, automatically, as he began to struggle to his feet. The two women had already packed up what meager supplies had been taken out for mealtime and fire maintenance, and seemed ready to go, though Selaena tactfully remained out of the conversation as she rummaged through her pack. Her head lifted at the mention of the distant empire, though, and Ell blinked as his tone threw her off-kilter.

"Come again?" Ellisia asked, disconcerted.

"We're going to Elmekia. I know Emilio--we'll bump into him somewhere along the way, I'm sure." He wrung as much water as he could out of his cape, shook his head and raked fingers through his hair for the little good that did. Taking a moment to study his wet leather gloves, he gave them up as a lost cause and dropped them into his own travel-pack. If we're lucky, we'll be able to get the coin--"

"Token."

"--from him with little fuss. If we're luckier, we'll be able to avoid Lina Inverse and keep from pissing her off further." He glanced up at Ell, and she looked away innocently. "Frankly I'm really not counting on our luck to change anytime in the near future, so we should probably be prepared for the worst in both cases." Selaena gulped audibly, fastening her pack closed and using her staff to pull herself to her feet.

"Now wait just a minute," Ell protested, fists settling onto her hips as her eyes narrowed. "Why Elmekia? Do you have any idea how far that is?"

"Not really. We don't have a map, remember?" He shrugged, taking in a deep breath and then releasing it slowly. "But I know the direction. We'll just keep going until we get there. We're two-thirds of the way to our goal with no particular need to rush--Emilio will need to come to us anyway. Maybe when he catches up we can finally get some answers about these things." In truth, he half-suspected that Ell herself could probably read the markings on these Artifacts, but considering the circumstances he decided pushing her would be unwise, possibly leading her to push back. He had no delusions about how she'd react to learning he'd struck a deal with a Mazoku, even if it was for her safekeeping of all unlikely things.

"But why_ Elmekia_?" she pressed, frowning suspiciously. "I mean, I'll grant that the place is to Astral Shamanism what Seyrune is to White Magic, but...this is a little sudden."

(Author's Note: If I'm wrong about any of this, please don't hesitate to tell me; in all the researching I've done on varying Slayers info sites, all I've been able to find out about Elmekia (aside from the obvious that two spells are named after it) is that it's the home of one Gourry Gabriev. Any further information is more than welcome!)

"Well, why not Elmekia?" he asked with a shrug that he hoped wasn't _too_ casual. "I'd rather keep moving than just sit around where any number of lunatics who want to get their hands on the Artifacts could surround and jump us, and Elmekia's as good a destination as any. We don't know where Emilio is, so no matter what direction we take we're likely to pick wrong. All we can do is wait for him to find us--he's shown an unpleasant knack for doing that anyway."

Ell frowned, clearly still reluctant, but this time it was Selaena who stepped forward and briefly cleared her throat. "In attrition, Miss Ellisia, if the Artifacts are intended to unseal Zenafa Armor--an armor suit related strongly with the Astral plane--it would seem likely that an Empire devoted to Shamanism (and particularly Astral Shamanism) would be a likely place for such armor to be sealed away."

"…you know something?" Ell said conspiratorially to Aric, while Selaena went back to finalizing her preparations to move. "I hate when she's still right even after getting a word wrong."

He could only stand and smirk, arms crossed.

- - -

Elmekia was not a short hop to the next town over, like the trips they'd been making. Thus far, it had been a simple goal of "pop over to the next closest town or village and figure out the next move" driving them on. Now, however, with a true long-term destination, the leagues seemed to drag on. Their fortunes finally seemed to rise after an ill-fated mugging attempt, that left _their_ pockets lined and the muggers stranded in high tree branches (or in some cases somewhere in the upper atmosphere). Once again Aric found himself thankful for the overabundance of highwaymen and robbers on the roadways, always a boon to the money-pressed adventurer.

Still, the monotony was beginning to take its toll, driving Aric to distraction and beyond. He supposed that he had gotten accustomed to things being lively lately, always something going on (no matter how life-threatening it was at the time). He knew, consciously, that he should probably be grateful for the lapse in people and things trying to take his life...but then, if he'd wanted a life free of scrapes and dangers he could have taken up fishmongering or something.

He kept hoping for something, anything at all, to happen as they traveled. Another highway robbery attempt, a village under attack by monsters or demons--or better yet, his rather intensive imagination suggested, one plagued by the old "sacrifice a virgin once a month" routine, which would naturally require the efforts of a suitably heroic figure to step in and save the girl while his two lackeys did all the hard work...

Naturally, before this line of thought could get far, Ellisia would exert what seemed to be some kind of sixth Dragon-sense and find some excuse to bash him. But aside from that, nothing was forthcoming. Worst yet was the fact that neither of the two women seemed particularly affected by the lack of chaos in their current lives. For two weeks they traveled thus, in largely uneventful monotony, through three boring villages and little-changing landscape. Even another strange and mildly disturbing dream would have been welcome, at this point.

Aric wasn't sure whether to be relieved when his wish for something eventful came to pass, or to regret ever having taken up this whole venture.

It had been another long, rather dull day of travel. The two girls were walking a little ahead, casually chatting about varying female matters that he chose to tune out for the sake of his own sanity, and Aric strode behind with his hands stuffed into his pockets, kicking a small rock ahead of him along the path to amuse himself. A faint twinge of hunger, a persistent itch at the back of his neck and a small laundry-list of other minor irritations allowed him to focus on something other than how infernally bored he was...but it was the sudden, unmistakable sound of laughter that truly lifted his head, ceased the conversation in front of him and finally brought him out of his bored funk. And not just any laughter, but...

"A_hahahahahahahaha!!_"

"See?" Aric said with a smirk, already tugging his gloves down tighter and stepping forward between and past the girls. "I told you we'd bump into him sooner or later. Come on out, Emilio, we've been--"

But he blinked, for though he heard the muffled sound of his would-be nemesis' voice, there was no way it could possibly have been directed at them. It was too far off, and Emilio was far too dramatic a man to let his speech be ruined in such a manner. He passed a glance over his shoulders to each young woman, and when each nodded in turn he sprinted forward along the path, followed by the two.

Rounding a final bend in the road brought them to quite the sight, indeed. Emilio and Lhynn stood facing off against another pair, and from the looks of the torn-up landscape (what had once been a forest clearing now looked like a deforested meadow), this had been going on for a bit. Both the treasure hunter and his partner had their weapons drawn, and Emilio additionally lofted a hovering ball of flame over one hand, but both looked rather the worse for wear--hair mussed, light scorch marks and scrapes on what could be seen of their skin, clothing somewhat torn and ragged at the edges. But Emilio bore the same confident bearing as ever, and Lhynn wore her minor injuries with typical stoicism.

Since the battle seemed to be at a brief breather for both sides, Aric took a look beyond his self-proclaimed arch-rival at his adversaries...and blanched, for standing confidently tall (stature notwithstanding) upon a grassy knoll surrounded by scorched ground was the unmistakable figure of none other than Lina Inverse herself. Her gloved fingertips were lightly smoking from released magic energy, her billowing black cape bore rents and small tears and scorch-holes, and her own slightly wild, fiery red hair was a little disarrayed as well...but she certainly seemed in better shape than the platinum-haired treasure hunter.

This time, however, she wasn't alone. To her left a swordsman wearing a deep blue breastplate over lighter-blue clothing, with blonde hair even longer than Lhynn's, grasped a sword with a strange hilt-design in both hands, fire in his blue eyes. His armor was somewhat chipped in places, and a lingering trace of red on his cheek marked where one of the two blades had scored, but once again he seemed in somewhat better condition than the two before him.

Before he had time to fully assimilate all this, however, the sorceress supreme caught sight of his small group past Emilio's shoulder. Instantly, her eyes lit with recognition, and a twinge of ire that nearly made Aric swallow his tongue. _"You!"_ she spat, eyes narrowed and fingers curling as she glared at Ell--even with the disguise, she had probably made the inference from Aric's own presence.

"Who?" Emilio turned, blinking, as did Lhynn and the blonde swordsman. It was Ell's turn to freeze, like a deer staring at a Lighting spell. Upon recognizing them, Emilio drew himself up, sheathed his sword and tossed his fireball over his shoulder so he could properly cross his arms. "A_hahahahahahahaha!_ Well, if it isn't Winterbourne himself! I imagined this might be _your_ doing. Still getting others to do your labors for you, I see, but you'll not take the Token as easily as you did the other two."

Even Lina's ire dissipated briefly at this, blinking as she returned her attention to Emilio as Aric tried frantically, belatedly, to shush him. Before anybody could speak, however, a new, female voice piped up in overtures of "cute and perky" that rivaled Kaia's worst.

"_There!_ Miss Lina, these are the ones the guards in Atlass described! I _knew_ rallying the militia would allow the cause of Justice to triumph!"

Whirling on their heels, Aric, Ellisia and Selaena found their path of entry blocked by two more figures, one shrouded much the same as Ell in a hooded cloak and white face-mask...and the other about four and a half feet of spunky wild black hair, dark blue eyes and exuberant disposition. Both wore white, the young girl's attire accessorized by pink bracelets with blue stones set into the backs, the young man wearing a sword belted at his hip whose pommel poked beyond the fringe of his close-drawn cloak.

"Awh, crap..." Aric muttered, slowly backing up only to realize that there was no refuge in that direction either. "Surrounded..."

Ellisia had other priorities in mind, however, turning a dark glare on the bright-eyed young girl. "You mean _you're_ the one who had the guards after us?! I _thought_ it was odd that Atlass City would be interested in the Artifacts."

"You've got to be kidding me," Aric muttered, glancing to his two companions, and then back over his shoulder. This was getting out of hand. _Lina Inverse_ was after the Artifacts now?! Given that, the logical answer at this point to anyone with half a brain would be to simply surrender them, but if they did that then Ell would never get back to normal. And reward or no, Galamoth would probably not take well if Aric were to renege on their bargain.

"Indeed!" the dark-haired young girl proclaimed gallantly, striking a noble pose with a fist curled before her and her eyes raised toward the heavens. "Even the wiliest of evildoers cannot escape the long arm of the Law forever, even if it be but a fingernail that reaches them! And we _are_ that fingernail!" With a dramatic flourishing gesture that caused her short white cape to whip about her shoulders with a snap, she pointed an accusing figure at the five in the center of the clearing. "Now, like the grime that builds up beneath that fingernail, prepare to be swept away by the cleansing force of righteousness!"

"What the _hell_ is she talking about?" Aric murmured to Ell from the corner of his mouth. The half-Dragon could only shrug, bewildered. Glancing around, Aric saw that he wasn't the only one out of sorts--everyone else present, even the girl's own companions, stood in awkward speechlessness, a small bead of sweat rolling down the temple of everyone present save Emilio Van Strahd.

It was then that the white-shrouded figure next to Amelia stepped forward, looking decidedly weary himself. At least, what could be seen of him, around the eyes. Aric couldn't help but note, before the man began to speak, that the skin around them was oddly bluish-gray. "I think what Amelia's trying to say is that you're obviously stuck here. Surrounded, overmatched and generally outclassed. So how about handing over these 'Artifacts' you're carrying, and we can all go home without a fuss."

"Look," Aric began, "If we could just talk about this reasonably..."

"Never!" Emilio protested, causing both Aric and Lhynn to fall flat on their faces. "But perhaps if you all surrender now, we shall deign to spare your lives!"

"My, but he switches royalties quickly," Selaena murmured with a finger lifted to her chin as Emilio brandished his sword threateningly.

"Um, I think you mean 'loyalties', Miss Artifact-thief," Amelia said awkwardly.

"That's what I said."

"Alright, everybody _hold it!!_" People jumped on all sides, instinctively whirling to face a rather flustered-looking Lina Inverse. She stood with fists on her hips and eyes narrowed, a vein bulging ominously in her brow. "Okay, look. You kids were muscling in on my territory awhile back, and mouthed off. I can forgive that. Blowing somebody up once per transgression suits me just fine. Your looney friend here reminds me unpleasantly of an old association, but as long as he doesn't laugh again I'm fine with that too. There's no need for anyone to get hurt here, so why don't you just hand the magic items over to the world-saving veterans and find yourselves another ancient lost treasure to unearth. We sort of need these for personal reasons."

"As do we," Ellisia spoke up, taking on regal tones as she took the role of group spokesperson upon herself. Emilio was currently too busy hopping around on one foot in pain, after Lhynn (unable to take the part for obvious reasons) had stomped on his toes to prevent him from laughing once again, Selaena was out because simply conversing with her resulted in too much word confusion, and Aric was entirely too intimidated by his career-choice ideal to speak. "So it seems we are still at odds. Besides, at least two of us are..._unable_ to give up the Artifacts we carry, for our own individual reasons." Selaena nodded emphatically, clutching her staff protectively to her chest.

Lina crossed her arms, her brow furrowing. "This isn't a game, you know. Those things are dangerous. If they fall into the wrong hands--"

"And what guarantee do we have that yours are the 'right hands'?" Ell retorted, mirroring the posture. Even with her voice muffled by the scarf covering her lower face, she managed to sound like a negotiating diplomat.

Lina, however, had never been accused of being diplomatic in nature. Already, her temper was beginning to slip, her brow twitching as she spoke through clenched teeth. "You mean aside from saving the world from utter annihilation at least three times, I'm guessing?"

"Your reputation for wanton destruction precedes you, Miss Inverse," Ell continued calmly, gesturing offhandedly with one thick and unwieldy glove. "Besides, this is an affair of the Dragons. While humans have been recruited to assist the affair, this concern weighs far more heavily than your petty human treasure hunting."

Aric and Selaena both jumped at the sudden sound of steel being unsheathed, behind them. Half-turning, Aric saw that the white-shrouded man had drawn his sword, and was now holding it in a preparative stance with a cold gleam in his eyes.

"Now come on, Zelgadis," Lina hastily tried to placate, as more eyes turned toward the man. "Things are finally getting sort of sane around here. I'm sure we can work this out."

"This is too important for simple negotiation, Lina," the man named Zelgadis said coolly, edging a little closer until the point of his sword nearly touched Aric's chin. He reached up his empty hand, revealing a fingerless glove that exposed the blue-gray tips of his fingers, and pulled away first hood and then face-mask. "This may be my last remaining chance to turn my body back to normal. We can't afford to just squander it. Let the Dragons do what they want with it, _after_ we've used it for this."

His face was perfectly human in configuration, save for the pointed ears, but the entirety of his visage was all rocky blue-gray, with little chunks of darker blue stone set at seemingly random points about his face. Aric even noticed an odd little detail, as one tends to at the strangest moments: crossing one of his eyes, from brow-ridge to cheekbone, were two very narrow rib-like arches of stone.

(Author's Note: Little-known detail I read about somewhere. Can't remember which eye it is, if the source even said...)

While Aric and Selaena, Emilio and even Lhynn could only stare, eyes wide, Ellisia was quick to recover her mental feet. Snatching her own hood she let her wings unfurl with a snap and send her mantle flying across the battle-scarred clearing. While the four surrounding them took their own respective turn to stare, Ell lifted a gloved hand to curl around the blade of the sword and pull it away from Aric. "You aren't the only one who needs them for a mystical makeover."

There was a long moment of tense silence. Zelgadis and Ellisia glared coolly into one another's eyes. Aric felt his muscles tensing, saw Lina doing the same. The blonde swordsman (presumably Gourry to whom she had spoken in their last encounter), silent the entire time, raised his sword slowly as his fingers curled closer around the grip, and Lhynn mirrored him. Emilio finally stopped hopping around on one foot, looking around in bewilderment, and Selaena seemed at something of a loss.

Amelia sneezed.

All hell broke loose.


End file.
